The Making of a Livable Future
by QueenOfDuskAndDawn
Summary: Five never meant for his family to find out about the girl next door. Of course, keeping her to himself became difficult when he landed in her sitting room after saving his family from the apocalypse by taking them back to the past. Whatever. Klaus adored her and she helped murder their father. They would come around.
1. Chapter I

**Hello and welcome to my new story! I have no idea how long this will be nor do I have a set uploading schedule so please stay with me on this. As usual with us fanfic writers, I don't own anything and make no profit from this story. If you have a suggestion of what I can do with the story please leave a review or write to me in a private message here on . Please, enjoy!**

* * *

**They landed in a dark, unfamiliar room.** The Hargreeves children stumbled over each other and crashed to the floor with a loud thud. Five was on edge immediately, jumping up to defend against anyone who might catch them. He heard Vanya quietly ask where they were and was relieved that she was awake. While his siblings muttered curses as they tried to overcome their disorientation and stand up, Five tried to pinpoint where exactly he had taken them. They all startled as the orange light of a candle washed over them.

"Five?"

The boy in question turned around slowly, the hauntingly familiar voice cutting to his core. His heart stuttered as he laid eyes on the girl in the doorway. She looked exactly like he imagined she would. Unchanged. He took in the sight of her, her long, blonde tresses twisted into a braid that hung over her shoulder. The aged, worn fabric of her nightgown was the final piece of his internal puzzle. They were in her sitting room. "Gwen…" His voice was barely above a whisper, wonder filling it as he met her green gaze. He tried to dismiss it, tried to pretend that his voice was weak because of Klaus landing on him but, as he watched tears rise in Gwen's eyes, he could not deny how much he had missed her. Allison uttering his name, a trepidatious tone to the whisper, he was painfully reminded that he was not alone with his old friend. Five cleared his throat uncomfortably as he turned away slightly. "We need your help, Gwenny." Klaus gasped dramatically somewhere to his left and he was fairly certain he heard Diego ask himself if he had hit his head in the fall. "I'll explain everything," he promised, "but I need to ask some questions first." Gwen stepped farther into the room, setting down her candle as she turned to close the door. Five was relieved that she did not ask any questions in return, the display of trust causing a strange tickling sensation within him. "When are we, Gwenny?"

"September 15, 2003," she replied, sinking down onto an ottoman, "at 01.37 in the morning, if that has any relevance." Five nodded, pacing back and forth while his siblings regained their footing and took seats around the room. Gwen studied him closely, trying to discern what was different about him. He looked the same, but he did not feel the same. Whatever he had been through in the nine months since he disappeared, it had jarred him. Gwen frowned. She had no idea how long it had been for Five. The papers had spun several theories about his disappearance, but looking at him in her sitting room, she had a fairly clear picture of what had happened. It was a surprise to see him with his siblings though. She doubted that they knew who she was. Relationships outside the Umbrella Academy were strictly forbidden. Her friendship with Five was a clandestine thing, between him and the residents of Silver Townhouse.

Five faced his friend again. "I've been gone, in your timeline, for nine or ten months," he stated, "according to my calculations." Gwen nodded in agreement. He nodded along with her absently, running a hand through his hair. "Not long enough to cause any long-lasting consequences then," he continued, "Papers, news reports, what does the world know about what happened?"

"Nothing beyond the fact that you weren't in the city anymore," Gwen replied, "There were theories, of course, but no evidence nor accuracies." Five let out a breath of relief, quirking his lips thankfully in her direction. "I have questions, you know," she murmured, feeling her mind slip away from her, "but you need to hurry back to him." Absently, she heard Five move toward her and she could feel his fingers on her knees, but could not see him. "Time-traveling means moving oneself out of one timeline and replacing the self in another," she whispered, more to herself and Five than his family, "the former selves disappear, Five, which means he knows that they're not in their beds."

Five sprung into action immediately, leaving Gwen to shake herself back into the present. "We have to get back to the house, now." It was clear that his family had questions, but he shoved them toward the back door, leading into the immaculate garden. Gwen followed behind them, wrapping her arms tightly around her to combat the chill as Five opened the door. "Any advice on how to avoid suspicion?" He watched his friend bite her lip thoughtfully, the oh-so-familiar gesture setting off a sense of relief so immersive he felt unsteady on his feet.

"Tell him that you heard a strange noise," Gwen replied, looking to Diego, "and ran into the others when you went to investigate." Diego nodded, if doubtfully. "Tell him that you all heard it and wanted to discover its source on your own but eventually you all found each other and Five in my garden and that, to your knowledge, no one else saw you." Five started to reach for her but pulled back. Shooting her a small smirk, he led his siblings through the hole in her fence and disappeared from view. Gwen went back into the house, ignoring Simon's strange look as she passed him. The man had been working as a butler for her family since she was a baby and knew better than to question her late-night exploits. Rather than going back to bed, even though she was exhausted, Gwen went to the bathroom to grab the first-aid kit before she settled on her bed to wait for Five.

* * *

Five appeared in the unchanged bedroom half an hour later. The lie had worked, especially since Luther had been the one telling it. Grace had been ecstatic to see him. Hargreeves had punished him for his insubordination. He could hear Gwen's gasp as he fell, face first, onto her bed to reveal the welts from the belt Hargreeves had taken to his back. He was in too much pain to even flinch as he felt Gwen dab antiseptic-drenched cotton balls against cuts and scrapes. All he could feel as she smoothed a lotion against the throbbing marks on his back was a relief. Her hands were freezing and offered a much-needed refuge against the pain. Neither spoke as she worked on him, the whole experience rather routine despite his absence.

Only once she'd washed her hands and put away the supplies did Gwen see it fit to speak. "I must admit that you've come to me with worse," she whispered as she crawled beneath the covers beside him, "but you should avoid sleeping on your back for a week or so and have Grace check on it regularly to ensure that the cuts, however superficial they were, don't get infected." Tears were rising in her eyes but she ignored them, unsure why she was crying at all. Five grabbed her hand, though he was unable to turn his head to look at her. Gwen smiled through her tears, eyes fixed on the ceiling. "We should've left when we had the chance, huh?" She turned her head to glance at Five and was surprised to see him looking at her. There was something peculiar about the spark in his eyes, something she had never seen in them before. She wondered what it was for, but his eyelids dropped sleepily before she could ask. With a soft smile, Gwen kissed his cheek, happy that the sedative he had not noticed her injecting was working.

Five woke up fairly early. His back was hurting and the warm spot next to him was cold. A glance at the grandfather clock in the corner of the room told him that it was just after eight. He frowned, not remembering the last time he had slept even an hour. Despite the pain whenever he moved, he had never felt better. Absently, as he tried to rise from bed, he made a mental note to sleep for five hours more often. Ignoring the ache, he sat up. The skin of his back felt tight and uncomfortable and even though he was certain that the clothes he kept in Gwen's room were still where he left them, he doubted that he would be able to lift his arms over his head to pull on a shirt. So he ventured out of the bedroom sans shirt, looking for his best friend.

He found her in the dining room with her butler. "Morning," he murmured, sitting down at the table, "where's Monica?" Five had always liked Gwen's mother. She was kind and never questioned his presence in the townhouse. Monica Silver had refused to give up Gwen when she was born. She had been struggling with having a child and, despite the odd circumstances, had always considered herself blessed to have a daughter. When Five met her for the first time, and Gwen told her he lived with Reginald Hargreeves, she welcomed him immediately, seemingly understanding the lack of affection in his house.

"Miss Monica has spent the night with her beau," Simon replied, sliding a plate piled high with various breakfast foods in front of the boy, "and will return by noon." Five smirked into his orange juice, glancing over at Gwen. The thirteen-year-old shook her head disparagingly. Simon nodded in agreement with the unspoken truth. Monica was, for all intents and purposes, the black sheep of the honorable Silver family. Not only did she refuse to live with her parents in their upstate estate, which was unprecedented, she had a bastard child and was unable to find an, according to Annie-May Silver, impeccable suitor to engage in courtship with. Worse still, in the words of Henry Silver, she had refused to attend Ophelia Murphy's School for Elite Youth. "Though," Simon continued, refilling Gwen's black currant tea, "I don't believe she will be seeing him any longer."

Gwen coughed delicately. "Does she ever?"

* * *

While both Simon and Gwen made good-natured comments about her mother's behavior, Five marveled at the difference between his best friend and the woman he considered to be a motherly figure for him. Gwen, unlike Monica, did attend Ophelia Murphy's. The school taught children in upper-class families to speak and behave properly and Five swore that if Gwen was to end up in the Victorian era she would not seem too out of place. Of course, as she was raised by someone who mostly ignored etiquette and eloquence, some parts of her were still influenced by Monica. Like using contractions when she spoke and letting a boy sleep in her bed. And while Gwen was near the epitome of classy young lady, Monica slurped her soup and put her elbows on the table. It drove Gwen up the wall. Five grinned. It felt good to be home.

Once breakfast was over, Gwen followed Five back to her room to help him into a shirt. They were not in a hurry, Sir Reginald rarely bothered with trying to find Five after beating him. But she knew, even without getting a vision, that the others were worried about him. "Have Grace take a look at your back tonight," she instructed, carefully smoothing out the fabric of his button-down over his shoulders, "and while I would say that our door's always open, you never actually use it so… pop over when you feel like it." Five nodded and turned to face her, working on the buttons. "Also," she added, "if you're bleeding a lot, please pop into the bathroom, Simon thinks the dry cleaners have started to wonder why he always comes in with bloody carpets."

"I'll be back as soon as I can," Five assured, sliding the last button into place, "and I'll try not to be hurt next time." Gwen seemed hesitant to hug him when he opened his arms for her, making him roll his eyes and tug her close. "You could never hurt me," he whispered into her hair, "Never." She nodded against his collarbone and gently wrapped her arms around his lower back. He let her go, sighing heavily, and suddenly he was standing in his own bedroom. He walked out into the hallway and nearly collided with Ben. A fully corporeal Ben.

Ben in turn was almost toppled over by an overenthusiastic Klaus. Both of them looked at Five, then at each other, before yelling in unison. "Five is home!" They ducked as their lethal brother dove for them. They continued down the hall, still chanting his name over and over again. Allison looked out from her room, a look of barely contained amusement on her face. Luther looked disapproving and Vanya giggled behind her hand. Diego just looked exasperated. Klaus and Ben risked a glance over their shoulders and found Five looking positively murderous. Before they could react he was in front of them, his left hand wrapped around Ben's throat while the other clamped down on Klaus'.

Five was vaguely aware of Vanya yelling for him to let them go. Allison tugged at his arms, with no luck. Only when Luther grabbed his shoulders, thumbs pressing down on the sensitive skin of his back did Five release them. Pain shot up and down his skin and he gritted his teeth, growling. His reaction made his family frown in concern and reminded him that he needed to see Grace. He turned away, ignoring them in favor of searching for their robotic caregiver. She looked up when he entered the kitchen. "She told me to have you check it," he said, unbuttoning his shirt, "Said to make sure it's healing okay." He had always had a feeling that Grace knew about Gwen. His suspicions were confirmed when his mother just nodded and motioned for him to sit on the table. Several gasps told him that his siblings had caught up.

* * *

"Oh my God, Five," Vanya whispered, horrified, "what happened to you?" She knew, of course, that Sir Reginald was creative with punishments. Perhaps that is why she never expected corporal punishment. He always did psychological punishments, locking her in the chamber and Klaus in the mausoleum and always making sure to remind Diego that he was Number Two. But the welts on Five's back and scrapes and bruises… tears welled in her eyes when Five barely even flinched while their mother inspected the wounds.

"Where is Reginald," Five asked instead of answering, "I thought he'd have come to gloat by now."

Grace applied some salve to her son's back before giving him his shirt. "Your father is away at a convention for inventors," she replied, going back to preparing their lunch, "he'll not be back for a few days." She said nothing as Five grabbed a mug from the cabinet and put on a pot of coffee. "You shouldn't sleep on your back," she continued, finishing the platter of sandwiches she had been working on, "tell her to make sure you don't." Grace had never actually met Gwendolyn Silver. But she was fully aware of the impact the neighbor-girl had on Five. He was gentler, at least when he was alone or with just her, after coming back from next door. He was less on edge. The first time Grace realized that Five had someone outside the Academy to go to for help, he had been punished so badly by Sir Reginald that he was bleeding. He had been rapped over the knuckles, never making a sound, simply suffering in silence. As always, Five disappeared, but when Grace found him in his room his knuckles had been plastered. She knew none of the other children had done it, she had said goodnight to them an hour earlier and they were all fast asleep when she found him. She never told Sir Reginald. If he asked about Five, she simply let him believe that she had patched him up.

"Thanks, Mom," Five murmured and jumped off the table, "I'll tell her." He grabbed his peanut butter and marshmallow sandwich and sat down in a chair. He knew the inquisition he was about to face would require sustenance, even though he practically just ate, just so that he could annoy Luther by dragging out the answers by eating. As expected, Luther took up questioning him. The others still seemed wary of him. Good.

Unable to resist, Luther grabbed a sandwich even as he glared at Five. "Who is she, Five," he growled, "and how come Mom knows about her?" He had to fight to control his temper when the smaller boy took his time answering. Two bites of sandwich and a whispered thanks for the coffee their mother placed on the table in front of him later, Five finally looked up.

"Her name's Gwendolyn Silver," he replied mockingly, "she lives next door." He could almost see the veins in Luther's neck growing bigger as he tried to contain his fury. Five took a long drink from his mug, scanning Luther up and down. The silence dragged on and just when Luther was about to burst, Five continued. "Gwen was born on October 1, 1989, at 9:38 in the evening." Jaws dropped around him. Again, Five took a bite of his sandwich, chewing slowly as he waited for the news to sink in. "She's a telepath and telekinetic with precognitive abilities," he continued, voice dropping to a threatening drawl, "and if any of you tries to hurt her, or if anyone of you tells Sir Reginald about her, I will ensure you die slowly and in a world of pain."


	2. Chapter II

Diego felt the blood in his veins go cold. Though he wished that Five was joking, there was nothing funny about his words nor his tone. There was no doubting the truth of them. "How does Mom know," he wondered, "if Dad doesn't?" Five shrugged and continued eating. Unlike Luther, who continued to glare suspiciously at Five, Diego understood that the boy eating a sandwich with marshmallows, _of all things_, did not actually know how their mother managed to keep the secret while being fully controlled by Sir Reginald. But that was a gift horse he suspected was better left alone. "How long have you known her," he asked, rather than interrogating Five, "you seemed pretty familiar last night." Both of them were aware that their entire family, as Sir Reginald did not nor would he ever count, were listening.

"Six years, maybe, in her time," Five replied, "and we are… closer." He had no desire to open up particularly much about his friendship with Gwen. She was someone he had found and fully intended to keep to himself, never mind that he refused to acknowledge why until he knew her thoughts on the matter. But, he realized, the others needed something from him. A sign of goodwill, or maybe trust. "She's a good listener," he admitted lowly, leaning closer to ensure that Luther could not hear him, "She understands even when you can't find the words because she can see in here." He tapped his temple. Luther's glare intensified as the others nodded. Five did not care. He did not trust Luther and it was unlikely he ever would. Finishing his sandwich, the fifty-eight-year-old teenager stood and turned to Grace. "I'll be with her today," he told her, "and probably tonight." His mother nodded and patted him on the cheek lovingly. In an instant, he was gone.

* * *

Without looking up from the grand piano, Gwen knew when Five arrived. He made no sound, knowing better than to interrupt her lessons with Simon, but she could feel him, sense the presence of something her telekinesis could move and bend to her will. Her fingers never faltered as she allowed Beethoven's Sonata Nr. 14 to fill the room under Simon's watchful eye. The family butler and, quite frankly, caregiver, was passionate about classical music and when the younger of the Silver ladies asked him to teach her he had almost cried. Her concentration was broken when she was pulled into Five's thoughts. She did not mean to do it and thought, at first, that it was a vision. Only… what she saw was blurry images of her, then a mannequin, until he seemingly regained control and told himself to never let her know. "What does that mean?" Gwen asked her question out loud, startling both Simon and Five. The butler, recognizing that he was dismissed for the moment, muttered that he was going to prepare refreshments for them. "What is it," Gwen continued, nodding her thanks to Simon, "that I can never know?"

"Digging in my head again?" Five's jaw clenched with irritation. He hated that she, if she chose to, could see right through him while he was left in the dark regarding her thoughts and feelings. "I thought you respected me enough to at least ask," he bit out, "rather than violating my privacy."

Gwen shook her head, standing from the piano bench. "I was pulled in, Five," she corrected acidly, hands settling on her hips, "because you were thinking about something that has to do with me." Again, without meaning to, she was pulled into his head. Images of a wasteland flashed briefly before he growled and started pacing. Gaze softening, Gwen approached him cautiously. She reached out to him but before she knew what was happening, she was pressed against the armrest of the couch. Five's hands were wrapped around her wrists, but he was not hurting her. She did not believe him capable, even if he wanted to. Not her. His eyes widened when he realized what he had done but she refused to let him pull away. "Let me see," she whispered, winding her released arms around his torso as he started quivering, "let me help you, Five." He clung to her desperately, whispering incomprehensible things in her ear as an onslaught of memories washed over her. Images of his siblings, grown and dead, of the remnants of the Silver townhouse. She listened to the memories of him talking to himself. One memory jarred her more than any other. The one where he realized that he could no longer remember her voice or the exact color of her eyes. In that memory, he finds a mannequin and tells it that 'she'll do nicely'. She saw a woman with white hair, offering him a way out. Gwen felt his hands on her cheeks and realized that she was crying. But he did not ask her to stop, did not push her out. The memories got bloodier the closer to his return she dug. She did not stop until she found the memory where he landed in her sitting room.

* * *

Both of them were gasping for breath when she finally returned from her journey into the darkest part of his mind. Tears streamed down her face and Five knew her well enough to understand that she was grieving. Grieving him and the childhood he would never get back. "I never felt at risk," he rasped, throat thick with emotion he only ever showed her, "not until I realized that I couldn't remember how you sound when you're annoyed at me, or how your eyes sparkle when you want to laugh but won't let yourself because it isn't ladylike." He could hear Simon open the front door for Monica and tell her that Gwen was in the sitting room with him, but that they were to be left alone. Monica seemed more upset by the fact that she had not been made aware of his return rather than the fact that he was alone and unchaperoned with her teenaged daughter, if her screeched 'Five is back' was any indication. Both Five and Gwen laughed, the former drying the latter's tears. "I'm not letting anyone take you away from me," he muttered darkly when they heard Monica irritably proclaim that the Carmine family had approached her on her date and inquired if Gwen was eligible for a match with their son, "Never again." Once, years ago, he would have had qualms about hurting someone. Okay, no not really. Years ago he would have hurt them but let them live. As he held her in his arms, the pain in his back was naught but a vague itch compared to the ache he felt at the thought of being forced to forget her again. If anyone tried, even Monica or Simon, he would not hesitate to kill them.

Gwen hugged him tighter before pulling away to look up at him. "They will die trying," she muttered back, unknowingly echoing his thoughts, "slowly and painfully if I can help it." Having seen what he had been through, heard the dangerous thoughts in his head during that time, she was not very keen on letting anyone bring him back to a situation where she could not be there for him. Taking a deep breath, she let go of him completely and straightened her dress out before pulling a smile onto her face as she prepared to greet her mother. Five smoothed out his shirt and followed her into the kitchen, where Monica was leaning against the counter with a mug of coffee. Gwen saw him eyeing the mug and rolled her eyes. On the small table in the corner of the room, Simon had set out a cup for Gwen's tea and a mug for Five's coffee.

* * *

He had barely set a foot into the kitchen when his breath was squeezed out of him with the force of Monica's hug. Looking to Gwen for assistance, Five pleaded silently for her to get her mother to release him. Gwen's eyes sparkled and he just about melted. So he surrendered to Monica and let his best friend prepare his coffee. He had learned to see that spark for the laughter it was and he was struck with the realization that, as long as she looked at him with that spark in her gaze, he would move mountains for her. And thus, he found himself further annoyed with the fact that Gwen's feelings remained a mystery to him. "Good to see you again, Monica," he said, forcing himself to think about something other than the girl holding out his coffee to him, "I hear you put the latest fish back into the water."

"You talk too much to my daughter," Monica joked, rolling her eyes, "God knows you two are the only ones I know who disrespect me enough to use wise-ass metaphors like that." She had long since given up on keeping up with the duo. Whenever they got started on her, she usually told Simon to side with her just for the hell of it. He did it too, though his dry and borderline sarcastic defense was not helpful in the least. "Speaking of wise-asses," she continued unceremoniously, grinning when her daughter winced at her choice of words, "I ran into the Carmines last night."

Gwen sat down on a kitchen chair, crossing her legs delicately at the ankles as she sipped her tea. "Pity that," she replied daintily, raising her eyebrows at Five when he leaned against the table, "I hear their precious Tristan is looking for a bride." Fully frowning at Five, she hid a smile behind her tea cup as he sighed heavily and sat in a chair. "Just how many minutes did it take before they insinuated that they would _deign_ themselves to let their beloved heir begin a courtship with the bastard Silver girl?"

"Three," Monica replied, too annoyed to even smirk when Five growled, "About five minutes into the conversation they suggested that you would never find anyone else of good standing, which I found ironic for two reasons." She paused to thank Simon as he placed a plate of leftover breakfast in front of her. She took a bite of bacon and turned back to the teenagers. "First of all, there's the fact that you already have someone," she told them, with food in her mouth, "Second, they suggested it _five_ minutes into the conversation and the one you already have is called _Five_." Gwen looked sick and Five shared a smirk with Monica. Both of them enjoyed riling the poor blonde up, her proper demeanor making her so very easy to rattle.

"Mother," Gwen admonished while struggling to regain control of her gag-reflex, "are you still drunk?" Five laughed and she had to fight to remain stern with her mother at the rare sound. "I would rather see you still inebriated at noon than capable of such juvenile humor." Gwen huffed as both Five and her mother laughed at her snippy tone and big words. Even Simon cracked a smile, his stoic mask fading as Five teased her about reading the dictionary again.

* * *

That night, Five braided back Gwen's hair as she sat by her vanity to remove her jewelry. He had learned how to do it when she had used telekinesis three years earlier to move his hands into making a regular French braid for her. He secured it with a small hair tie and left her to finish pulling off her rings while he dug out his pajamas. As he expected, he found the bottoms in her sock drawer and the top in her chest of nightgowns. He rolled his eyes. Unlike Allison, who kept up to date with the latest fashions even though she rarely wore anything except the Umbrella Academy uniform, Gwen had stuck to the fashions of the 1930s if he remembered her longwinded speech correctly. Or rather, she had been ranting about how fashion was actually graded at Ophelia Murphy's and that anything designed after the Fifties apparently warranted a failing grade. Five had been more thrown by the fact that he, who did not actually go to school, had to wear a uniform while Gwen, who went to an elite school, did not. "Need me to hand you a nightgown," he asked, buttoning his pajama shirt, "or do you already have one?"

Hanging her necklace on its designated hook, Gwen turned to face Five. "Can you put one out while I go to brush my teeth?" He nodded and she disappeared into the en suite. When she reappeared he was under the covers with a book. At the end of the bed he had placed an emerald green, silk nightgown and Gwen could not help the smile that spread over her lips. The last time he had spent the night before he vanished into the future, she had been wearing that nightgown. Unabashed, and smirking at the thought of how her grandparents would react if they knew, she changed out of her clothes into the sleepwear. Five had always respected her privacy, keeping busy with a book or a wound while she changed. "What are you reading?" Gwen carefully folded her clothes and put them in the basket outside her bedroom, for Simon when he felt like doing the laundry, while Five told her about the biography he had picked out in the small library on the third floor. Once she had crawled under the covers, he put it away and turned off the lamp at on the bedside table, making sure to lay on his stomach. They fell asleep together, his arm thrown over her to entwine their fingers.

Over the next couple of days, Five only ever went home to check in with Grace about when Sir Reginald would come back and to assure his siblings that he had not left for the past or future. The rest of his time was spent playing chess with Simon, listening to Gwen as she played the piano and helping Monica tease her daughter. While he had caught Luther grumbling to Allison about how he had apparently abandoned them, Five was relieved to see Allison punching Luther in the shoulder and declaring that it was 'understandable that Five wants to see someone he loves after thinking she was dead for so long'. But his reprieve was brought to an end when he popped in to see Grace and she told him that Sir Reginald would be back within the hour. Five had reluctantly said goodbye to Gwen and asked her to be ready in case he came over with injuries. Surprisingly Sir Reginald did not seem to find anything to punish Five for, leaving him whole and unable to sneak off to see Gwen. Until the night of their fourteenth birthday.

* * *

Allison and Vanya both covered their mouths to silence the gasps that threatened to escape. Diego's eyes were wide and Five's palm connected with his forehead. Luther gaped. Ben and Klaus trembled before Sir Reginald, their supposed father's face stormy as his eyes sparked maniacally. The remnants of the cake Grace had made covered half his face. It had been an honest accident. Ben and Klaus had volunteered to help carry food to the table and they had stumbled on a loose floorboard. The cake had made a trajectory through the air that would have been impressive and even funny. Only it stuck to Sir Reginald. Before the man could dole out the punishments, Five jumped in front of them, absently wondering if his lack of Gwen made him suicidal. "You once said that I could take the punishment or pick one of them to be punished," he said defiantly and heard Vanya and Allison release their gasps, "I choose to take the punishment."

"That was only for your own punishments, Number Five," Sir Reginald reminded, voice deceptively clinical, "now move out of the way." He fought to maintain his composure as the boy refused to step away. "Number Five, that is an order."

"Five, please."

But he ignored Sir Reginald's order. He pretended not to hear Diego's pleading. Five refused to move. Vanya and Allison held Diego back as Sir Reginald seized Five by the hair and dragged him to _the room. _The very same one that he always ensured the rest of his family would never see the inside of. The last thing he heard before the door closed was Klaus sobbing. The pain after that felt never-ending. By the time Five was let out he was spitting blood, not to mention the several cuts all over his torso and arms. He knew that he would have bruises too, but all he could think was that he needed to get to Gwen. She would help him. He was gone before Sir Reginald had even left the room.


	3. Chapter III

When he appeared in Gwen's bathroom she was already there, crying. He knew in an instant that she had seen it. That a vision had told her what had happened to him. Neither said a word as she stitched the deep gashes and bandaged each and every cut she could find. He did not allow himself to scream when she reset his dislocated knee. He had a broken rib, but there was not much she could do about that other than see if his internal organs were alright. Her breath of relief told him that he would be fine. He glanced at the grandfather clock in the corner of her room as he, with Gwen's help, limped over to the bed. Four hours. Sir Reginald had tortured him for four hours. He fell onto the bed with a pained hiss but immediately accommodated Gwen as she carefully placed the covers over him. Absently, he realized that she must have thrown them off when she rushed to get what she needed to patch him up. They lay side by side for hours, neither able to sleep. At three in the morning, roughly six hours after his arrival, Gwen turned to face him.

"We have to kill him," she whispered, fear creeping into her voice as her consciousness of reality slipped away from her, "I can't see properly but I think… Oh God." Somewhere, distantly, she heard Five hiss as he shifted. But all she could see was Sir Reginald's face, twisted with rage. Her head throbbed as Klaus screamed. Then all she could see was Ben's empty eyes. When Gwen came back to him, Five was leaning over her, ignoring his pain to make sure she was alright. "We have to kill him," she insisted, tone hardening as her fear was replaced with anger, "before he kills one of you." Five kissed her then. He kissed her to numb his pain and take away her fear. He kissed her because he loved her and her desire to commit murder for him was enough to convince him that she loved him too. She kissed him back. By sunrise, their lips were swollen and the plan was finished. In a way, the transition from platonic to romantic was anticlimactic. But in the end, it did not matter. They had been waiting for years, him many more than her. After all, they put their own spin on it by planning his adoptive father's murder.

* * *

They did not waste any time. They did not need anything in particular other than Sir Reginald. Hopefully alone, as neither of them believed that the other Hargreeves children were morally gray enough to accept it. Five grabbed her hand once she was dressed and with a sweet kiss to her lips, he jumped them both into Sir Reginald's bedroom. It was empty. Their next stop was the forbidden study. The locked door did not bother him. Hand tight in Gwen's, he jumped them right past it. Sir Reginald looked up at them and Five was pleased to see the surprise in them. He knew that Sir Reginald knew who Gwendolyn Silver was. But her appearance in his study had caught him off guard. She stopped his heart in minutes.

By the time Grace discovered Sir Reginald's body, he was beyond saving. When the children found out, Luther insisted on checking the surveillance. The tape was gone and, Luther realized with a trepidatious glee, so was Five. But Vanya and Allison quickly put an end to his theories when they directed him to Five's room and they found him asleep. At least, they believed that he was sleeping when, in reality, he was watching through his link with Gwen as she burned the tape. Once noon and trash collection came around, all evidence of foul play was gone.

Five sat at the dinner table and listened as Luther tried to insist that the coroner's report was wrong. Diego glanced at Five but, finding no confirmation nor a denial, he stated that it made sense. Their should-have-been father figure had died of heart failure and they should be celebrating. Once dinner was over, Five retreated to the living area with his family. With Sir Reginald gone, they finally had control of their own lives. "Grace won't lose custody," he said as Luther grumbled darkly about the possibility, "You'll see in about half an hour." It was the only vague confirmation they would ever receive. All of them knew, but never for certain. Luther called it immoral. Five called it plausible deniability.

Grace met Gwendolyn Silver for the first time that night. Monica Silver rang the doorbell and presented her with the documents she needed to sign to gain custody of the children, stating that since their children were friends she would hate to see Five disappear due to a pesky technicality. Without hesitating, Grace signed the papers. She might have been a robot, but she loved her children. And though Monica declined her invitation to stay for tea, Gwendolyn does not. Watching the blonde with Five, Grace knew that she would love the Silver girl too.

"All ends tied up," Gwen whispered as she took a seat beside Five in the living area, "I'll say, it's probably one of the prettiest bows I have ever seen." She turned to Klaus, eyeing him up and down. The boy actually looked nervous and she smiled warmly at him. "I have a Thirties style blouse that should fit you," she stated, "It's far too long for me and I promise that it will match your nail polish." She was determined not to let the boy who could speak to ghosts become the man she had seen in Five's memories. With Sir Reginald gone, half the work was already done. Klaus lit up at her words and Gwen immediately faced Five. He sighed but glanced at Klaus' nails and disappeared. A few minutes later he reappeared and thrust the magenta fabric at his brother. Gwen smiled as Klaus teared up and thanked her profusely. She shook her head. "It does not go well with my coloring," she explained and Klaus actually nodded in agreement, "I'm just glad to be rid of it."

Catching Diego's baffled gaze, Five shook his head in exasperation. "She's going to adopt all of you," he stated darkly, put out that his time with Gwen undoubtedly would be compromised, "just you wait and see." Diego nodded, awestruck by the force of nature that was Five's best friend. Both of them watched her as she told Allison, her direct tone contradicting her delicate wording, that the Umbrella Academy uniform looked atrocious on her and that she needed to make a call to the same seamstress that made the clothes for the Silver family. Five was equally proud and discomforted by the fact that his girlfriend had his entire family eating out of the palm of her hand within an hour. Even Luther seemed to reluctantly warm up to her. "We should probably get back," he said suddenly, cutting through the conversations around him as he stood, "It's getting late and you've got to get to school tomorrow." Gwen rolled her eyes but did not fight him on it. Five took her hand and jumped them to her room without saying goodbye.

* * *

"You know," Gwen said casually as she stepped away from him, "there is no reason for you to be jealous of your family." She had not even needed to look into his head to understand his thoughts as she interacted with the other Hargreeves children. It was obvious in the disgusted curl of his lips whenever she laughed at Ben's running commentary or Klaus' delight with his new blouse. Five grumbled darkly, turning away from her when she unzipped her skirt. "I promise," she added sweetly, accepting the sapphire blue, velvet nightgown he handed her, "you will always be my favorite Hargreeves." Once she was changed, she braided her own hair while Five followed her lead and dug out a clean pair of pajama pants. They fell asleep like they always did, with Five on his stomach, an arm slung over Gwen who slept on her back. Their fingers entwined and their eyes dropped, neither regretting anything that happened that day.

About a week after Sir Reginald's _unfortunate_ death, the doorbell to the Silver townhouse rang. "Who is it Simon," Gwen asked from the kitchen, looking up from her Latin homework, "did Mom forget her keys again?" She knew it could not be Five, he was out playing bodyguard to Klaus at her behest to ensure that the ray of sunshine did not try to get high. Simon replied, rather dryly, that it was a '_Mr. Hargreeves_' seeking Ms. Gwendolyn. "Yes, Simon," Gwen bit back, "that really narrows the options down, does it not?" Sighing in irritation, she abandoned her homework on the kitchen island and stepped into the foyer. She was surprised to see Diego on her doorstep. "Is everything alright?"

"Five said you're a good listener," he said, surprising himself with how nervous he felt, "and I could use someone like that right about now." Gwen nodded to Simon, who stepped aside and let him in. It was a whole other experience seeing the townhouse in daylight. If he had to guess, most of the furniture were antiques. Yet, it was clean and organized, unlike the cluttered mess that the Hargreeves home had turned into. Absently, Diego noted that his mother would love it. "I need to talk to someone who, I don't know," he hesitated, "knows how to keep a secret I guess."

With an enigmatic smile, Gwen led him up the stairs to the library. "I suppose this has something to do with your conflicted feelings regarding one ms. Vanya Hargreeves," she guessed, gesturing for him to sit in a plush chair, "I was wondering when that was going to become a priority." She marveled at the fact that no one else seemed to see it, the way Diego looked at Vanya. At first, she thought Five did, but she realized that no, he did not. Perhaps it was due to her experience with lost love that Gwen knew the signs. She could tell that there was history between the two, history beyond what happened when they all splintered off. There was conflict in Diego's gaze, a battle of loyalties. Simon placed a tea set on the side table and bowed slightly before leaving them alone. "What's her name," Gwen asked quietly, causing his head to snap up to her, "the other girl you're thinking about?"

Diego did not know what to say. He liked that she seemed to understand, that she did not fault him for his troubled thoughts. "I… I think it'll be easier to just show you." Gwen prepared tea as he braced for an impact, something to give away when she entered his mind. Nothing happened. She gave him a cup and he was surprised to find that she made it exactly how he liked it. Memories of Eudora Patch, some from the police academy, some from his time as a vigilante, floated to the surface as they sat in absolute silence. A pin could drop on the carpeted floor and they would hear it.

"Why were you with her if you didn't love her?" Gwen realized that she should have given him a warning when he jumped enough to almost spill his tea. But she was genuinely curious about his answer. Diego had clearly cared for Eudora, but his love was for Vanya and Vanya alone. For the life of her, Gwen could not understand why he limited both of them by trapping them into a relationship that would not satisfy either of their requirements. They both wanted him to love her. He could not, yet they stayed together. It made absolutely no sense.

Diego was defensive though. "Of course I loved her!" He almost left her there, but something held him back. Something inside him that told him to listen to what the strange girl Five spent his time with had to say. "I loved her," he added weakly, "and she died."

"Don't be an idiot, it is unbecoming," Gwen reprimanded primly, "To care a lot for someone is not the same as loving them." She sipped her tea and waited for her words to register in his mind. His thoughts were plagued with images of Eudora, dead in his arms. Dark, pained whispers, pleas for forgiveness among guilty self-deprecating words echoed no matter what corner of his head she searched in. "You're forcing yourself to believe that you love her, are you not?" Again, Gwen was confused. Surely he realized that he was back in a time when she was still alive. "Diego," she murmured, placing a comforting hand on his arm, "You might be forcing yourself to love her so that you can believe that she died for a reason, but she's not dead." He looked up at her, pain in his brown eyes. She put her cup down and moved her chair closer to his, taking both of his hands in hers. "The reason you feel guilty for loving her was erased the moment you left that timeline," she reminded him gently, "and so was the reason you and Vanya did not work out."

Silence lapsed again while Diego processed what she was saying. Eudora was alive and unaware of who he was. He had not yet had an impact on her life. Sir Reginald was gone and Vanya was no longer powerless Number Seven, so her reasons for leaving the family and writing the book were obliterated. Perhaps for the first time in his life, Diego allowed himself to consider normalcy. A girlfriend, college, a house with a white picket fence and a swing on the front porch. "How the hell do you do it," he asked after several minutes, "how the hell do you see the things you do and still care enough to help?"

"Five thinks that seeing people's best and worst moments makes me empathic," she replied, lip quirked thoughtfully, "since I technically, at least for a moment, _am_ walking in their shoes." Five had chuckled about it, commenting that the saying about walking a mile in someone else's shoes before judging them applied to her in the sense that she heard the motivation behind every choice a person ever made. "I don't think I could ever leave someone if I knew I could help them," she added quietly, "It's why I'm talking to you, why Five wakes me up if he's had a nightmare and I'm still sleeping." Diego nodded. "Talk to her," Gwen encouraged, "Talk about whether or not you both are willing to take this second chance and try again." The boy looked down at his tea cup, up at Gwen and then out toward the stairs. "Go, find her, and tell her how you feel."

* * *

An hour later, Gwen was back in the kitchen and done with her Latin homework. She had moved on to geometry, wanting to get as much done as possible. Five kissed her jaw, making her jump as she had not realized that he was there. "Hello," she murmured, happy about the excuse to take a break, "How did Klaus-sitting go?"

"He did well," Five replied against her throat, "but I'm far more concerned with what you've done to Diego." She turned around in her chair, her confused gaze meeting his amused one. "He actually smiled at us when we got home," he explained, crossing his arms, "and then he kissed Vanya before asking if she wanted him to go get her a hot chocolate." Gwen turned back to her homework, smirking all the same. Five shook his head. He had known that she would make an impact with his family but he had not expected her to get results quite so fast. "Klaus wouldn't stop talking about you, by the way," he continued, abruptly changing subjects, "and he was wearing that blouse you gave him with a skirt he borrowed from Allison."

Gwen waited. She knew him and therefore she knew better than to believe his dropping the subject of Diego. "I'm glad he likes it, considering that I didn't," she replied casually, gaze locked on the papers before her without really seeing what was written on them, "but I would prefer if you just told me what game you're playing today." She gasped when her chosen barstool was spun around and she came face to face with him. There was a ghost of a smile on his lips, his mischief mostly reflected in his blue eyes.

"You're changing their lives," he murmured, his lips brushing against hers, "just like you changed mine six or seven years ago." Five stood impossibly close to her, his body lining up with hers like pieces of a puzzle. The tension, hormones charged by his never ending affection for her, was so very close to snapping. "I wanted to thank you," he continued suggestively, "while your mom is at work and Simon's out for groceries." All it took was a nod from her and suddenly they were kissing in her bedroom. Gwen gasped and her eyes fell closed as Five's hands tugged her shirt out of her skirt and slipped them under it, his gentle touch on her torso a stark contrast to the passion with which he was kissing her.


	4. Chapter IV

They learned a lot about each other in the forty-five minutes they had until the front door opened and Simon arrived home. Five was particularly cruel when he discovered a sweet spot of Gwen's just under her left breast and then proceeded to ignore it. In return, Gwen just barely skimmed her lips over his collarbone, rather than paying a spot under his jawline the lavish attention he wanted. Both of them learned that Five had no control around her but was capable of a surely remarkable recovery time. They also learned that it took little more than a few well-placed flicks of his fingers and a growled proclamation of ownership to have her falling apart under him. Five almost ignored the sound of the front door, but Gwen gave him a reprimanding look. So he settled for enjoying the smug pleasure he felt mix with the remnants of his physical pleasure. In forty-five minutes he had managed to get Gwen to ignore all rules of propriety. He almost wished he could meet her grandparents, who had instilled all ideas of etiquette and eloquence in her, just so he could relish in the fact that it had taken him forty-five minutes to unravel it all and replace their respectable granddaughter with the wanton young woman only he would ever know she could be. Five kissed her deeply and rolled off of her, whispering that he would be back later before he disappeared.

Gwen smiled to herself, a blush staining her cheeks as she caught sight of herself in the mirror. Pleasurable shivers shook her body as she felt his phantom-touch and she quickly headed for a shower, fully aware that Simon would ask how she was doing with her homework. She slid onto the barstool again, picking up her pencil where she had left it on the kitchen island before Five happened. "Simon, would you mind preparing a quick snack," she asked not looking up from the squares and circles in front of her, "I need the energy if I'm ever going to get this done." She winced at her choice of words, hoping that Simon would not ask why she was feeling tired. "I took a shower to wake myself up," she added, "but it only served to relax me and now I feel like I'm going to drop at any minute."

"Not sleeping well, ms. Gwendolyn?"

"No, not since debutante preparations got started," she replied, surprised to find that she was not blatantly lying to him, "With the way the teachers are acting, one could believe the ball is tomorrow and not a year away." Gwen hated debutante preparations. It did not help that her grandmother had taken to visiting her at school to _inquire_ about possible matches for her, as though the batty old hag had not already decided on choosing one for her. A fact that was further complicated by the recent… developments, in her _camaraderie _with Five. "I don't understand how mother put up with it," she commented, accepting the bowl of grapes and apple slices that was handed to her, "Then again, she only had to go through this with grandmother harping her, did she not, while I have to face the judgment of the entire school."

Simon smiled sardonically. "Ah, yes," he agreed, "the conundrum of whether or not the may or may not be bastard daughter will find herself a suitor." The torment the poor girl had to face at school was one of the many reasons that Simon had learned, after many months of snarky remarks, to appreciate Five Hargreeves. The boy clearly adored her and he was not afraid of her. Where she faced verbal abuse in the form of barely veiled insults in school, the boy from next door treated her like a treasure to be in awe of. Hiding a snort behind a cough, Simon faced Gwen. He was certain that both of them believed themselves to be discreet. "Does Mr. Hargreeves know that he will be required to be your escort," he asked, "seeing as he has taken certain liberties with you?" Her eyes widened as he held up a silver serving tray and pointed out the mark visible just above her neckline. Had she been wearing another color, say plum or deep burgundy, he would not have noticed it, but the bruise was starkly contrasting against her pale skin and the cream silk of her blouse. "I suggest covering that," he added with a smirk, "as your grandparents have invited themselves over for dinner."

"First off," Gwen muttered, face red, "that rule was abolished three years ago." She gathered her homework and grabbed the fruit bowl. "Second, would you please head over to the Hargreeves and tell Five to hold off visiting for a couple of days." Simon nodded and Gwen left the kitchen, still blushing slightly. If her grandparents were willingly leaving their upstate manor, she had no doubt that they were going to be staying for a few days in an attempt to get their heiresses to go along with whatever they considered to be important. It would _not_ go over well if Five decided to visit, especially since he never used the front door. No, it was far safer if he knew not to visit until the coast was clear. In retrospect, she should have known better than to expect him to comply.

* * *

Dressed in her best outfit, Gwen plastered a smile on her face and checked in the mirror to ensure that the mark Five had left was not visible. Her mother called, with no small amount of exasperation, that her grandparents had arrived. With a deep breath, she left her room and descended the staircase, keeping the smile on her face as Annie-May and Henry Silver came into view. "Grandmother," she greeted, "grandfather, what a delight to see you!" Exchanging kisses on the cheeks with them, Gwen gestured up the stairs. "Simon has prepared a room for you, in case you would like to lie down for a minute," she continued, cheeks hurting, "Dinner will be served in just a few minutes."

Monica, not at all as willing to put on a show, nodded to her parents. "Mom, Dad," she greeted, crossing her arms, "what do you want?"

"As eloquent as always, Monica," Annie-May admonished, shrugging off her coat for Simon to take, "goodness, you could learn a thing or two from your daughter." Patting at her gray-streaked hair, she followed her granddaughter into the dining room. Henry pulled out her chair for her and took a seat next to her while Simon helped Gwen into her seat and Monica, as gracelessly as always, slumped down on the chair at the head of the table. "I must say," Annie-May finally said once dinner had been served, "that this is edible."

Gwen glanced at Simon. Though his expression gave nothing away to the average observer, she heard his many ungentlemanly words. To suppress the giggle that threatened to escape, God help her if her grandparents found out she was anything other than a fatherless child with good manners, she took a bite and concentrated on chewing. "I find, grandmother," she supplied, "that one's food tends to taste better when the cook finds it within themself to care for the person eating." It was an underhanded comment, she knew, and had it been anyone else who said it, her grandmother would have been enraged. But the arts of subtly implying something, insulting someone without them realizing, was exactly what Ophelia Murphy's School for Elite Youth taught. It was the bread and butter of socialite conversation. Simon smiled almost imperceptibly, refilling Gwen's glass of water.

Annie-May leveled her granddaughter with a glare as the woman who was supposed to be her daughter snorted into her wine. "Since you so kindly brought it up," she began, putting down her silverware, "We met the Carmines for tea and they invited us to dinner in a fortnight." The sound of glass breaking turned all heads to Monica, who gaped unattractively. She tried to say something, but Annie-May would not hear it. "They invited _all_ of us," she continued, "claiming that they wished to discuss an agreement but had been turned down when they approached you."

"Hell no," Monica spat, "who my daughter chooses to pursue is her business." Of all the traditions she had hated, the 'agreement' was at the very top of her list. The agreement was a misogynistic trap to ensure that heirs had heirs and heiresses stayed silent in fear of being destitute. The full meaning behind the word was _agreement to court to be engaged to be married in the name of preserving the uppity legacy of snobs with sticks up their asses_. At least, that was Monica's definition of the word. "I refuse to let you dictate who she spends the rest of her life with," she bit out, "she is fourteen, Mom, and her generation is perfectly capable of making their own choices."

No one seemed to notice the way Gwen's fingers clenched around her fork. Her hand shook as she reached for her water.

"It is her legacy, Monica," Henry muttered even as he tried to stay out of it, "she must marry well, as tradition states." His marriage to Annie-May had not been a happy one at first. But they learned to love one another and had a child together. He was certain that Tristan Carmine was perfect for their granddaughter. "He is well-educated and is guaranteed a spot at Harvard Business," he divulged, taking a sip of wine, "he will find a suitable position that will ensure a comfortable life until they can access their inheritance."

* * *

Simon was the first to note that something was not quite right with Gwen. "Miss Gwendolyn," he said, drawing all eyes to himself before they turned to the blonde, "are you quite alright?" Her gaze was unfocused, her pupils blown wide. She nodded and stood, opening her mouth to speak. Nothing came out, as her legs gave out beneath her. Being the only one standing, Simon reached her first, checking her pulse. It was slower than usual, but he suspected all she needed was to get away from the stress of the sudden discussion of marriage and a good night's rest. The girl started to come to as he lifted her into his arms. "Miss Gwendolyn expressed fatigue earlier in the day," he announced, leveling Annie-May and Henry with a pointed look, "I imagine the stress of imagining a controlled future pushed her into a fainting spell." He strode toward the hallway, looking back just before he left the dining room. "I advise that Miss Gwendolyn be left alone for the remainder of the evening." With those words, Simon left and headed up the stairs. Gwen mumbled something inaudible, but Simon prided himself on knowing his mistresses. He would ensure she got what she wanted, lest he be murdered in his sleep for ignoring her request.

"Thank you, Simon," Gwen said once he placed her on her bed, "Please, could you bring some water and maybe some fruit?" He nodded and bowed slightly before exiting the room. Gwen leaned back against her pillows. She was not unintelligent enough to not understand what had happened. She had been stressed since the debutante preparations had begun and the implication that an agreement would soon be made with the Carmines… well, it clearly did not help. Simon returned within minutes, carrying a tray with a glass, a pitcher full of water, and a plate with strawberries and blackberries. "Simon…" she hesitated, wringing her hands nervously, "I need to talk to him before a decision is made."

He nodded. "I will see to it that the discussion is stalled."

Smiling gratefully, Gwen grabbed the glass and took a relieved sip of the cool liquid. She wondered how long it would take for Simon to get a message to Five that, despite her earlier instructions, she wanted to see him. Chewing on.a blackberry, she considered finding a book to read, but she did not find it within herself to bother with going to the library, not when there was a chance that she could run into her mother or, God forbid, her grandparents. Five would not fuss, he knew better. He would curse and pace and then remember that she needed him calm and climb into bed with her to hold her until she fell asleep. Under different circumstances, he would likely have stayed the night, but her grandmother had no boundaries and could burst in without warning so he would be gone by dawn.

Downstairs, Simon entered the dining room to find the broken family arguing loudly. "Miss Gwendolyn requests that the discussion be postponed until she is feeling better," he stated, cutting through the shouting, "as the three of you are partially to blame for her indisposition, it is only polite to acquiesce." He took in the outraged look on Annie-May's face, as well as the grudging acceptance on Henry's and the utter relief of Monica's and nodded to the three of them, secretly satisfied that they had some sympathy for the poor girl. "Again, I urge that you do not disturb the young miss," he continued, "she needs rest to recover." Simon gave Monica a significant look and left for the kitchen once realization flitted across her face. He heard her offer to take her parents to their room as the door swung shut behind him. Rather than taking care of dishes though, as he was sure the elder Silvers believed he would, Simon used the back door to leave the house and sneak into the alley between the Silver's townhouse and the Hargreeves mansion.

* * *

Five frowned when Grace called for him, stating that there was someone at the door for him. He had gotten a message from Gwen, through Simon, that her grandparents were visiting. Therefore, it could not be her at the door. He almost bit his tongue off when his initial dismissal turned into a realization that it could be the Handler. He jumped downstairs, startling Ben and Klaus in the process. Simon stood in the doorway and the look on his face was disconcerting. Almost snarling in his effort to not show emotion, he nodded at the butler. "Yes?"

"Miss Gwendolyn suffered a fainting spell during dinner," Simon told him, "she is asking for you." He had barely finished speaking before the boy was gone.

"What happened?" Five immediately strode over to Gwen, looking her up and down as though the reason for her syncope would somehow become visible on her skin. "Simon said you fainted." If the look Simon gave him was disconcerting, the expression on Gwen's face was near worrying. She opened and closed her mouth several times, clearly knowing what to say but being unable to figure out _how_ to say it. Five sat next to her on the edge of the bed. "Gwenny," he murmured, taking her hands in his, "no secrets." He sat, silent, as she regaled how her grandparents had invited themselves over and how the meal had barely started before they announced that they had accepted an invitation to a dinner that likely would end in them settling an agreement with the Carmine family that meant that she would be forced to date Tristan Carmine until they were old enough to be engaged. Five seethed as she spoke and once she was done he stood and started pacing, muttering curses under his breath. "No," he finally said, "No fucking way will I sit back and watch as he puts his hands all over you."

"I didn't think you would," Gwen murmured quietly, "I just thought you deserved to know." She smiled at how well she knew him, seeing the moment he reconsidered whatever he had planned to do. As she had predicted, he was gentle but, thankfully, not overbearing as he helped her get changed. He undressed and slid in beside her beneath the covers, gesturing for her to turn around so he could undo the elaborate updo she sported. Once her hair was free, they shifted to lay back against the pillows. His fingers tangled into the loose tresses, massaging her scalp with one hand as the other ran up and down the arm she draped over his chest. "Simon agreed to stall them," she admitted into the darkness, "I don't know how, but I think he can buy us enough time to find a way out that doesn't include murdering, maiming or otherwise physically or psychologically hurting my grandparents or the Carmines." Gwen could feel Five deflating and pinched his bicep, drawing a chuckle from him. They lay in silence for a while, his soothing motions never wavering. Gwen's eyelids slid closed, relaxed and comforted by his presence. Until he spoke again.

"What if your mom made an agreement with another family?"


	5. Chapter V

His words shocked her. Eyes wide, Gwen sat up slowly, resting her weight on one arm as she looked down at him. His fingers still played with the ends of her hair and she resisted the urge to shiver. "Five," she breathed, unable to believe what he was saying, "it's a lifetime commitment." He raised one eyebrow, silently questioning the relevance of her statement. Which, of course, only served to annoy her. "Do you have any idea what settling an agreement between us would even mean?"

"It means that we agree to date until we're old enough to get engaged," Five replied smugly, the spark of mischief in his eyes enhanced by the small smirk on his lips, "after which you and your mom, with interference from your overbearing grandmother should she live long enough, spend a year or so planning our wedding." He lifted the hand still resting on his chest to his mouth, kissing her palm and then her wrist before looking up at her again. "Did I get it right?"

Gwen pulled farther away from him, frustrated with how easily she warmed up to his words. "We are so young, Five," she whispered, "We just turned fourteen."

"Doesn't seem to be stopping your grandparents from making an agreement with the Carmines." He did not like how reluctant she seemed, almost as though she was considering a future without him in it. He sat up, throwing his legs over the edge of the bed so his back was turned to her. He refused to look at her as she rejected him.

"They expect a marriage, happiness and faithfulness are not required," Gwen replied, unsure of whether or not to get closer to him, "and I want to be in a happy, faithful relationship with you." Despite knowing that thinking clearly would fly out the window the moment she touched him, Gwen scooted closer to him, resting her chin on his shoulder. Her arms wrapped around him, hands coming to rest over his sternum, where she traced invisible patterns with her fingers. "How can we know for sure that we will be happy, faithful, for the rest of our lives?"

Relaxing back against her chest, his head dropped back onto her shoulder. "I've been faithful to you for fifty-three years, give or take," he replied softly, "I don't see why that would change in the next hundred." Five felt Gwen's tears fall onto his skin, but he did not move. He knew she needed him to let her think, not comfort her. After a long moment of silence, he turned to look at her. "If you would rather find another way, we'll do that," he assured, pausing to kiss her, "but it's been you and me since we were six and I'm not planning on changing that, because I love you."

Gwen gasped. Not because she doubted that he loved her, but because she never thought he would ever say it out loud. Wordless communication was their forte and most of what she knew about his feelings was figured out during her trips into his mind. To hear him actually say the words felt almost surreal to her. "Ask her in the morning," she finally whispered, awestruck, "at breakfast, while they are there." Five kissed her harder, maneuvering them so that she was on her back beneath him. She flushed as memories of their encounter earlier in the day played in her head. When he pulled away, her cheeks were stained pink and he grinned at her. A grin that faded as he took in the worried wrinkle between her eyebrows. "Five, I'm scared." Scared that they would not last, scared that she would lose him. He understood.

"You'd have to be an idiot not to be a little scared," he replied, pressing his lips to her forehead, "and I happen to know that you are the smartest person I know."

Gwen smiled softly. "You don't seem to be particularly afraid."

"When it comes to you, I _am_ an idiot, which is why your mom will say yes before your grandparents can get a word in." They shifted again, lying the way they always did. Five's thumb ran over Gwen's as he contemplated how to best ask Monica for her permission to officially date her daughter. He was fairly certain she knew he loved her, and even if she did not, she knew that he would always put her first and ensure her happiness above all else, which was more than Tristan Carmine ever would. Had it not been for the even breaths of the sleeping girl beside him, Five would have growled. Reminding himself that they had, hopefully, prevented that future, he succumbed to slumber.

* * *

At dawn, Gwen was woken up by a soft kiss on her cheek. She opened one eye to peer tiredly at Five. He was fully dressed. "See you in a couple of hours?" He nodded and kissed her before disappearing. She glanced at the clock, groaning as she saw the time. It was almost twenty past seven, and since breakfast was served at ten on weekends, she had three hours to shower and get ready. Dragging herself out of bed, Gwen decided on taking a bath. She had the time if she skipped putting her hair up and considering the events that were to take place, she figured her grandmother would not have time to reprimand her.

The minute she stepped into the dining room, her mother's head snapped up. "Mother, I am fine," she assured, holding up a hand to stop her mother from rising, "I feel much better." Gwen took her seat, struggling to contain her smile. Something must have given away her change of attitude, as both her mother and Simon looked at her strangely. Like the Hargreeves, they both suspected Gwen and Five's involvement in Sir Reginald's death. She almost giggled as she peeked into their heads and found both of them wondering whether or not Five had murdered the Carmines or the elder Silvers. Half of their fear was assuaged when the unwelcome visitors entered the dining room.

"Ah, Gwendolyn," Annie-May said, not bothering with holding back her glee, "I see you are feeling better this morning." She shot Monica and the butler a triumphant look, reaching for a piece of toast as she turned back to her granddaughter. Somewhere in the house, a clock rang as the hour struck ten. She opened her mouth to reopen the discussion from the night before. A doorbell interrupted her and she glared as Simon left to get the door. "Who in their right mind stops by uninvited?" Monica scowled at her, an expression that morphed into surprised horror when she looked past her mother and toward the doorway. Annie-May followed her daughter's gaze to find Simon reentering the room with a boy she did not recognize.

"A visitor, seeking miss Monica."

Monica glanced from Five to her daughter, whose mood suddenly made more sense even as it brought up more questions. She did not know whether to be trepidatious or relieved. "What can I do for you?" Still wondering if she was going to regret the question, she turned her gaze back to Five, who had his most charming smile on. It did not ease her nerves in the slightest.

"Miss Silver, I've come to ask your permission to establish an agreement with your daughter." Five basked in the minor chaos his words caused. Annie-May Silver was shrieking at Monica, who turned just in time to see Gwen plaster a surprised look on her face. Henry Silver was yelling questions at his daughter, wondering who the insolent low-life daring to take such liberty was. Simon just looked plain exasperated as he glanced between Five and Gwen. "If I may," he cut in, the slight steely tone in his voice slicing through the mayhem, "You have known me to be a friend of your daughter's for many years and you know that I will aspire to make every day of her life better than the last."

Snarling, all lady-like behavior gone, Annie-May faced the stranger. "How dare you," she spat, pointing an accusatory finger at him, "how dare you suggest that you will ever be good enough for Gwendolyn?" She could not believe the audacity of the boy. She had never seen him before, meaning that he was not a part of high society, therefore he could not be rich. Whoever he was, he would never suffice for her Gwendolyn.

"I assure you, mrs. Silver," Five replied smoothly, "that your granddaughter will wish for nothing should an agreement be settled."

Monica interjected before her mother could speak again. "Should my daughter agree…"

Henry slammed a fist into the table. "Do not dare, Monica," he growled, "the Carmine family is one of the richest in the state and their son is the most eligible bachelor available."

"Well, that might be true," Monica countered, her mind made up as the struggle to keep from smiling became clear on her daughter's face, "if one discount the Hargreeves sons." She should have known that Five would find out about the talks of agreements. She had just expected that Gwen would take longer to decide to tell him. "As it is, I have already made my decision," she continued, "and if my daughter is willing, then you have my blessing." Monica's gaze followed Five as he made his way around the table to Gwen.

Enraged, Henry glared at his daughter. "The best choice for Gwendolyn is Tristan Carmine," he almost shouted, "the Hargreeves family has never participated in the courtship rituals and therefore the Carmines is the most influential family for us to tie to."

"Gwenny," Five murmured, ignoring Henry as he directed his words at Gwen only, "let's make this thing official." He bowed to her, lifting her knuckles to his lips in a painfully proper gesture before he straightened himself and spoke louder. "Miss Gwendolyn, will you be so kind as to accept my offer," he asked, never letting go of her hand, "knowing that I have loved you for years and will continue to do so until my death?" Even as Gwen's eyes brimmed with tears, he was infinitely thankful that his family was not present. He would never live it down. The idea of the mild humiliation was soothed by the speechless nod he received from his girlfriend and it took every ounce of willpower he possessed not to sweep her off her feet into a kiss she would never forget. He settled for kissing her knuckles again, grinning. "I will spend the rest of my life reminding you that you made the right choice," he said, holding her gaze, "You will never have reason to doubt my feelings."

Annie-May had had it with the charades. "Gwendolyn Silver," she hissed dangerously, "you take that back right now or your inheritance will be naught but a fading dream."

"That's fine," Five replied, voice significantly darker, "I assure you that my own fortune is substantial enough to support myself and Gwendolyn for some time." The entire Hargreeves family had been shocked to see that Sir Reginald had split his billion dollar fortune among them. Well, the surprise had been more that it had been split evenly. Grace had been a recipient too. Annie-May and Henry gawked at him. Even Gwen was surprised.

Monica smirked. She had, after all, been the attorney to handle Sir Reginald's will. "Mom, Dad, allow me to introduce you to Five Hargreeves." Her mother's eyes widened and her father's jaw dropped. The rest of them just looked smug. Turning to Five, Monica grinned. "Will you be joining us for breakfast, Five, or do you have somewhere else to be?" She took so much pleasure from seeing her parents genuinely speechless.

* * *

Without hesitation, Five took a seat beside his fiancée-to-be, throwing an arm over the back of her chair. He had already made the decision to see how much the elder Silvers would let him get away with. Somewhere, deep in his mind, he was aware that he was likely to be yelled at by Gwen. However, since both he and Monica aimed to help her loosen up a little, he would take it. So he sat on the edge of his seat, leaning against the backrest with a small smirk on his face that only widened when his girlfriend did not correct his posture. He nodded to Simon as the man poured him some orange juice, grinning when he caught the tug of the lip that was as good as a smirk on the butler. Still not removing his arm from behind Gwen, Five reached over her plate to get to the blackberries, not only initiating physical contact he knew that he too would suffer for, but completely disregarding the general rule of asking for something to be passed. In the corner of his eye, he saw Annie-May clench her fists around her knife so tightly that her knuckles went white. Leaning back with the bowl, he wondered who would stab him first, Gwen or Annie-May, if he tried to feed the girl beside him. Well, he thought, he had no sense of self-preservation anyway. Five placed the berry between his teeth and faced Gwen, fully expecting the blush that immediately blossomed on her cheeks. Which is why he did _not_ anticipate her response.

Gwen kissed him, in full view of her grandparents, stealing the berry from him. Even though her cheeks burned, the expression on Five's face as she pulled away was worth it. His eyes darkened as he gazed at her intently. Ignoring the dumbstruck look on her grandparents' faces, she smiled bashfully as the faint sound of Simon chortling in the kitchen reached her ears. Her mother appeared to be struggling to hold back her own laughter.

"I forbid it," Annie-May declared once she recovered, "I absolutely forbid you, Gwendolyn Mariah Silver, from dishonoring the family by indulging such improper behavior!" She glared at the boy by her granddaughter's side before turning to Monica. "I think it will be for the best to have Gwendolyn stay with us until her debutante," she stated brusquely, "A debutante she will be escorted to by mr. Carmine." Gwen opened her mouth to argue and Annie-May slammed her palm into the table. Silence lay heavy over the room, all laughter gone.

Except… "Excuse me?"

Gwen's closed her eyes tightly, not really feeling sorry for her grandmother while simultaneously wishing that no one would get hurt. If Five's tone was anything to go by though, she recognized that the odds were painfully low. He placed his hands flat against the tabletop and stood slowly, his blue gaze locked on Annie-May. "Five, please." He made no move to show that he had even heard her. Instead, he leaned closer to the frozen forms on the other side of the table.

"Let me make something very clear," he hissed, one hand clenching into a tight fist, "Gwen does everything you ever ask of her, and because of her respect for you I'll let you leave this house alive." Horror colored the elder Silvers' feature and Five grinned dangerously, sinking into his seat again. Gwen's fingers wrapped around his fist but he refused to relax until he felt his point was brought home. "Should I hear mention of you even whispering about taking her away," he continued silkily, leaning back, "that will change." He pinned Annie-May and Henry with his gaze before intwining his fingers with Gwen's as he continued eating his breakfast.

* * *

Not a word was spoken for the remainder of the meal. Finally, as Simon was taking the dishes to the kitchen, Monica had gathered enough of her wits to speak. "Mom, Dad, I think you'll find that staying here another night will be futile," she said, her voice and Five's presence leaving no room for argument, "as any attempts of convincing us to attend dinner with the Carmines will be… hindered." She glanced at her future son-in-law without meaning to, but it seemed to be enough for her parents. Without prompting, her mother and father stood and headed for the hallway, Simon following to fetch their coats for them. Monica grinned when the door slammed shut without them bidding goodbye. She turned to the teenagers. "So you've decided to actually indulge my daughter then?" Five nodded absently, eyes closed as he drank his coffee. "And you're aware of what the agreement entails?"

"Casually dating until her debutante, after which the official courtship begins," he recited dutifully, once again draping his arm over the back of Gwen's chair, "I will be expected to appear at all social events she'll be required to attend, give her a piece of jewelry as an antiquated way of marking that she's taken and once we turn eighteen I'll propose in a disgustingly public way to announce the union of our esteemed houses." Setting down his mug, Five glanced around the table. Monica looked vaguely impressed and Gwen raised her eyebrows at him in surprise. Simon gave nothing away as while he refilled the empty mug. "I do listen to what you say," Five muttered, "even though I try my hardest not to when you start on your precious rules of etiquette." Gwen poked him playfully, allowing him to pull her chair closer to his. He pressed a kiss to her temple. Urgent knocking on the door had them breaking apart as all heads turned in the direction of the noise. "I thought we'd have a little longer-"

Gwen silenced him, brow furrowed in concentration. "Five, you should get home," she said quietly, "tell your family about the recent developments." He frowned at her, opening his mouth to protest. She shook her head insistently, silently telling him to come over later. A dull pop signaled his departure and Gwen stood, smoothing out her skirt. With a glance, she stopped Simon from opening the door. Her mother's expression was worried, but Gwen was focused on the onslaught of distress coming from the person on the front steps. She threw the door open and guided a crying Vanya Hargreeves over the doorstep. "Simon, would you please prepare a pot of chamomile tea," she asked, helping the devastated girl out of her coat, "Mother, you should be getting to work, it's almost noon and you don't want to keep your clients waiting." Without waiting for a reply, Gwen ushered Vanya up the stairs to the library. She sunk into a loveseat, pulling the still crying girl down beside her, and held her tightly until the tears subsided. "Vanya," she urged quietly, gently lifting her friend's chin to meet her watery gaze, "what on Earth happened?"


	6. Chapter VI

"L-Luther," Vanya hiccuped, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand, "h-he tr-tried t-to…" She trailed off, breaking out sobbing again. Gwen just held her close and Vanya was struck by the way the neighbor-girl simply let her cry, not pushing for an explanation nor attempting to diffuse the situation. She had never been treated so gently by anyone before, other than Diego and occasionally Five. Klaus, bless his heart, always tried to make her feel better only to inadvertently make her feel worse and Ben was so compassionate that he usually ended up teary-eyed as well. Allison usually pushed too much, demanding an explanation and getting frustrated when she did not receive one. Once she had regained control of her tears and her breathing was a little steadier, Vanya accepted the porcelain cup she was offered and took a few sips. The warmth spread through her body, instantly soothing her. "Luther," she began again, "he tried to demand that I go back on my meds." If Gwen was surprised, she did not show it. "I can't control it," she whispered, clutching the teacup in her hands in an attempt to absorb its warmth, "my powers."

Gwen scoffed, reaching to fill her own cup. "Of course you can't," she stated, shaking her head in exasperation, "no one has ever asked it of you before." She took several dainty sips of her tea, frowning as she attempted to figure out if she wanted to add anything. Nodding to herself, she glanced at a sugar cube. It broke in half and she added one of the pieces, stirring before she took another sip and smiled in satisfaction. "Besides," she continued haughtily, "from what I understand, Luther never had much to control beyond his strength and his idiocy." Gwen tutted and crossed her legs at the ankles, smirking as Vanya giggled softly.

"Dad tried to get me to control it," she admitted, looking down at her lap, "and when I couldn't… there was this chamber-" Vanya was grateful when a hand wrapped around hers, cutting her off. She had no desire to talk about the dark memories that led them to where they were. No one understood. Five had full control of what he could do and so did Ben. Klaus did not want his powers, even though he had been better recently. Luther, as Gwen so simply had put it, had nothing to really control. Diego was skilled and while he did miss every now and again, he was fully capable of handling his powers. Allison fluctuated between wanting hers and not wanting them, making her an unreliable source of comfort for Vanya. But Five's best friend, the blonde with raincloud-colored eyes, she understood. They had a similar basis in their powers, able to control, destroy and affect. "How do you do it?"

The clink of teacup meeting saucer accompanied the faint sound of Simon playing the piano in the downstairs sitting room as Gwen set down her tea. "There is a massive difference between being asked to control it and being told to control it," she stated darkly, almost regretting that Sir Reginald was already dealt with, "Where I learned to control it because I knew the damage I could cause, Sir Reginald wanted you to control it because of the damage he wanted you to cause." She picked up the other half of the sugar cube she had split, holding it out for Vanya to see. They watched as it fell apart, crystal by crystal until a neat pile of sugar remained. "I can do that to people, separating tendons, muscles, even blood vessels, until nothing remains," she continued, "but I don't want to, and that's all that matters."

"Intention" Vanya whispered.

"Indeed," Gwen agreed, "and it helps to remember that with the right intention you can save people just as much as you can hurt them." She picked up an empty cup and launched it at the wall opposite them. It shattered into hundreds of tiny little shards. Vanya stared at her and she grinned wickedly, throwing the accompanying saucer in the same direction of the smashed cup. Just before it hit the wall, it stopped, hanging in the air. "As long as you intend for something to happen, it will," she assured, setting the saucer down on the floor, "try channeling Simon's music, absorb the sound waves and then use those to pick up the shards and put them on the saucer."

Vanya hesitated, glancing worriedly between Gwen and the layer of destroyed porcelain on spread across the carpet. She listened as Simon played Chopin's _Nocturne_ and did as she was instructed. A gasp slipped past her lips when she felt them, each and every shard, brushing against the invisible force created by Simon's music. She lost concentration in her excitement, the floating pieces falling to the floor again. Frustrated, Vanya turned to Gwen with a furrowed brow, only to be met with an encouraging smile. So she tried again. Successfully.

"It's going to take concentration at first," Gwen said, patting Vanya's knee daintily, "but with enough practice, any sound will help you channel your powers with minimal effort." Vanya smiled widely and they continued enjoying their tea, giving each other updates on their respective relationships. Suddenly remembering just who Diego Hargreeves was, as in his temper, she frowned at her friend. "Hey, Vanya," she said curiously, tilting her head to the side, "what did Diego do when…" She trailed off as another noise reached their ears and cut off Simon's playing. They frowned at each other and cautiously headed downstairs.

* * *

"I told you… you didn't stand… a chance…"

"Not m'fault… he was being a…"

Amused and mildly concerned, Gwen interrupted the exchange as she took in the sight in her foyer. "I'm sure that whatever word you were thinking, Mr. Hargreeves," she said, crossing her arms, "is strictly forbidden within these walls." Diego leaned against Five, who had a small cut on his cheekbone but seemed otherwise unharmed. The same could not be said for his brother. Diego had several bruises beginning to bloom over his face and the visible parts of his arms and chest. His lip was bleeding and his right eye was swelling with a shiner unlike any Gwen had ever seen before. Vanya immediately rushed over to help steady her boyfriend while the blonde remained on the stairs to stay out of the way while the Hargreeves made their way to the kitchen. "Now, I'm aware that I usually help you with injuries," she stated as she joined them and telekinetically helped them place Diego on the kitchen island, "but why bring Diego?"

"Because he got in a brutal fight with Luther," Five replied dryly, still panting slightly, "Mom isn't home to take care of him and he refuses to see a doctor even though I'm fairly certain he's bleeding internally from a cracked rib or something." He gestured vaguely around him, slumping into a chair in the corner. "So, I thought of Gwendolyn Silver's private practice."

Rolling her eyes, Gwen handed a small cotton pad dipped in an anti-bacterial liquid to Vanya. "See to that cut on his cheek, will you?" While Vanya dealt with Five, Gwen turned to Diego and eyed him critically. Nodding to herself, she reached up to press her fingers against the side of his torso while watching ribcage moved as he breathed, finding two broken ribs on his left side. She moved to the other, pressing down slightly against his right side where a cry of pain alerted her to one more broken rib. "I'm afraid I can't do much about the bruising nor the ribs," she said kindly, moving around him to get an icepack from the freezer, "All you can do, really, is put some ice over to relieve pain and take an ibuprofen or something to help you sleep and breathe easier." Diego nodded painfully and Gwen gave a sympathetic smile. "It's gonna hurt to breathe but you have to remember to take deep breaths to avoid a lung infection," she continued, helping him down, "but at least I can't sense any wayward blood to indicate internal bleeding."

"How do you know all this," Diego asked, wincing with every move he made, "Mom is programmed to know this kind of stuff, but you're just a kid."

"Well, years of helping Five kind of forced me to take up an interest in medicine," Gwen replied, switching places with Vanya so she could make sure he would not need stitches or butterfly bandages, "so I had Simon order the textbooks used for pre-med classes in college and studied them." Finding that the cut was superficial, at worst, she patted his other cheek and turned just in time to catch the tender gaze with which Diego watched Vanya fuss over him. "I'm taking the PSATs soon and I'm planning on taking the tests required to get a bachelor's in pre-med at the same time I take the SATs so I can move on to med-school straight out of Ophelia Murphy's with the intention to become a fully licensed and certified trauma surgeon by the time I'm twenty-eight."

Five shook his head at Diego and Vanya's dumbstruck expressions. "See, this is what I mean when I say the level of academic pressure at Ophelia Murphy's will kill you," he grumbled, taking her hand in his, "You told me that the average age of just becoming a surgical resident is between twenty-four and thirty and you plan to be fully-fledged by then." He wanted to pull her close to him, much like Diego did with Vanya in spite of his pain, but chose not to do so in front of his family. His relationship was best kept private unless displays of affection were required to make a point. "I know you're intelligent and, at this point, experienced enough to do it," Five continued, seeing the displeased look on Gwen's face, "I just feel the need to remind you that at some point during that time, the societal rules you've decided to follow demands a wedding and that it might get a little stressful."

"Do you want to come over for dinner tonight," Vanya asked before Gwen could retort, "to see the others and maybe help pull a prank on Luther?" The blonde nodded, smiling sweetly.

"Simon," she called, waiting for the man to appear in the kitchen before she continued, "I'll be having dinner with the Hargreeves tonight." He nodded and moved to get back to the piano but Gwen held up a hand. "Also, would you please bring the car around?" At the questioning glances she received, she elaborated. "Vanya and I will be going out until dinner and a ride would be most appreciated." Simon nodded again, though he seemed bemused, and disappeared to do as he had been told. Pleased that her plans for the rest of the day were in motion, Gwen turned and kissed Five on the cheek. "You should take Diego home so he can get some rest," she said, leaving no doubt that it was a command despite her pleasant tone, "We'll be back in time for dinner, I promise."

* * *

Not until six months later did Five find out what they had been up to that day. He shared a suspicious glance with his family as they stared up at the Icarus Theater sign. Needless to say, none of them had been there since their sister brought about the apocalypse. Perhaps for the first time in his life, Five actually doubted Gwen. Her invitation had simply stated for him to bring his family to the Icarus Theater at eight in the evening. Vanya was absent and that alone was cause for worry. Diego shuffled nervously, wringing his hands as he appeared to contemplate running away. Finally, Klaus and Allison sighed in annoyance and grabbed Luther and Ben by the arms, dragging them towards the entrance. Relenting that their presence would be appreciated by Gwen, Five and Diego shared one last look and followed.

An usher showed them into the same room they had last been in. This time though, Gwen stood on the stage, rather than Vanya. She smirked as she saw Five glare at her and for once she was grateful for her family name. The theater had been all too pleased to accept the donation her mother had made in exchange for a private evening. She waited for the Hargreeves to be seated before she began the show. "Good evening, ladies and gentlemen," she greeted, smiling to the abysmal audience, "I'm sure most of you are wondering why I asked you here." Without pause, Gwen nodded slightly toward stage left, where her mother and Grace were waiting with the star of the night. "I learned to appreciate music through my good family friend Simon," she told the audience, letting Vanya walk out on stage, "and tonight I'm pleased to present Vanya Hargreeves, who will be playing a _very_ special melody for us."

Vanya flinched and glanced at Gwen when Luther jumped up and pointed an accusatory finger at them. Her friend simply smiled and nodded in encouragement. Accepting the violin her mother held out for her, Vanya whispered thanks to Monica who helped her onto the stool in the middle of the stage. Without waiting for further reaction, she started to play. The music, the oh-so-painfully familiar melody she had played all those months ago before the moon fell from the sky, haunted all of them. Even as she tried to immerse herself in her music, Vanya could see how tense her family was.

Smug satisfaction formed a grin on Gwen's face at the awestruck expressions on the Hargreeves' faces. For months she had been going to the theater with Vanya to help the girl process the memories brought out by the place as well as practice the powers she had displayed on that very stage. She knew it would set her in a bad position with Five, she had never done anything behind his back before, but she also knew that the payoff would be worth it. Vanya's family, being back in the place where everything had gone so wrong and seeing her control her powers, would finally begin to trust her. If that caused a strain on her relationship with Five, Gwen had no regrets. She closed her eyes and listened to Vanya play, never tiring of hearing the piece. When the final notes faded out, the room was dead silent. Then applause from a tearful Monica Silver and smiling Grace Hargreeves. Klaus and Ben joined in, as did Allison. Luther, for once, did not appear to have anything to say. Diego was smiling and Gwen felt herself tear up as she witnessed relief flit across Vanya's face at the sight. Everything would be alright.

* * *

All except one thing. Five was already waiting in her bedroom when they returned from the theater. "How could you," he asked acidly before she had even fully closed the door, "how could you go behind my back and risk your own safety like that?" He gave her no chance to reply, pushing her back against the mahogany surface with an alarmingly loud thud. The fact that her expression showed no fear helped him combat the regret creeping up his spine. "How fucking dare you put yourself at risk," he spat, "knowing what she can do?" Five was nowhere near as startled by the fierce defiance in her eyes as he wanted to be.

"How dare you continue to believe that she's dangerous," Gwen bit back, pushing him away with a force that surprised even her, "when it's that kind of thinking that made her who she was in the first place?" She shoved him again, ignoring the twinge of remorse she felt when he groaned upon slamming into her desk. Knowing that he would be angry had done nothing to prepare her for the actual argument and she silently wondered what good precognition was if it did not prepare her. "Vanya needed someone who trusted her," she continued frostily, "and since none of you were ready to accept that role, I did, not only because she needed it but because I get it!"

They were yelling, but neither cared. Five growled, shaking his head furiously. "You could have been killed," he screamed, "And the fact that you willingly put yourself in that situation, even though you know how I feel… I don't even fucking know what to do with that." Distantly, he could hear Monica and Simon come running to check on them. "I don't know what the fuck to think about any of it."

"Then maybe it's for the best that we don't see each other until you do." Gwen's words shocked both of them, but she refused to regret them. How could she regret them when he would not see beyond the selfish reasons for his anger and had the gall to yell at her in her own home? Some time apart would do them good. At least, that is what she hoped. Maybe, by the time the dust had settled, Tristan Carmine would still be available. Regret or no, tears rose in Gwen's eyes as she and Five stared at each other. Her mother and Simon knocked on the door, asking if everything was alright. It was not. It might not ever be. Without another word, Five disappeared and Gwen fell apart.


	7. Chapter VII

Five completely ignored the knock on his bedroom door. He had been ignoring them, all of them, for weeks in favor of staring at the clock on the wall opposite his bed. It had stopped a few days earlier but he knew exactly how much time had passed. Three weeks, four days, eleven hours, fifteen minutes and nineteen seconds had gone by since he had been shown the proverbial door. He had counted every second since, just to avoid thinking about _her._ Grace had been the only one daring enough to enter his room, though many attempts had been made by the others over time. His mother simply left a tray with food in his room once a day. Sometimes it was empty when she retrieved it, other times it was left untouched. Not once did he stop counting. The wall his bed was stood against was covered with etched markings, one for every minute that passed. Five knew he was not taking care of himself. He knew that locking himself into his room, only leaving it when he jumped into the bathroom, was not healthy. He also knew, though he refused to acknowledge it, that he was waiting. He knew that if he backed away far enough from the damaged wall it would be more than just minutes. At some point during his self-imposed solitary confinement, he had come to fully understand that everything he did, he did for her. The missions, hindering the apocalypse, eating, sleeping and breathing, he did all of it for Gwen. Gwen who had all but thrown him out that night three weeks, four days, eleven hours, seventeen minutes and four seconds ago. He etched another mark onto the wall. Still waiting.

While her brother wallowed in his own misery, Vanya was just about done. She knocked again, unsurprised when no response came. Allison, Klaus and Ben stood with her, all of them sharing worried glances. Diego had given up on working Five and switched to trying to talk with Gwen instead. He had since reported that the blonde girl was surprisingly difficult to find, particularly alone. So Vanya, feeling partly responsible for the fallout, had enough. "Stand back," she muttered, channeling the strange scratching sound on the other side of the door, "and cover your ears." Finding the connection, feeling the fibers of the wood press against the sound waves, Vanya blasted the door off of its hinges. Her family gaped at her. Five stared at her but seemed otherwise unmoved by the intrusion. "Get your pathetic behind out of bed, Five," she demanded, snatching the switchblade out of his grip, "because Gwen is apparently done waiting for you to come back." He frowned and she almost cheered at the fact that she had gotten a reaction out of him at all. Covering her emotions, she pointed the blade at him. "Tristan Carmine's in town," she continued, "Apparently to attend a _very_ important dinner regarding who he will be escorting to the debutante ball in a few months." The growl was barely audible and Vanya could barely restrain herself from sneering at him. She gave the blade to a still shell-shocked Diego and crossed her arms, giving Five a pointed look. "Now, I believe there's only one eligible socialite who lives in the city rather than in some manor upstate."

There was no time for anyone to react before Vanya was pressed against the wall, Five's fingers wrapped tightly around her throat. "Don't talk about her," he growled darkly, "I don't want to hear her name ever again." He felt numb. Numb with the understanding that _she_ was gone. He had lost her once and barely survived. He was not sure he wanted to as the image of Gwen and the faceless figure of Tristan Carmine floated in his head, cozied up on the couch in front of the fire in the Silver Townhouse. He felt numb. Then he felt sick. He had made her a promise. He had promised her that it would be her and him for the rest of their lives. "Get out," he whispered, letting his sister go, "Get out and take the door with you." He had no time for their interference. He had a promise to keep.

* * *

Gwen jumped in surprise when she heard the familiar, dull pop. She put her book down, deciding that her Shakespeare essay could wait, and pulled her knees up to her chest as she looked up at him. The sight of him in her library brought tears to her eyes. Five looked as terrible as she felt. He was paler than usual and the blueish bags under his tired eyes had her wondering when he last slept properly. Not that she had been doing too well after their fight either. It was weird, sleeping without him after several months of having him there. They stared at each other, neither making the first move. Just because they were in the same room, ready to confront the lingering anger and insecurities they carried, that did not mean that the fight to see who would cave first was over.

"I'm not sorry."

"I know."

"I'm miserable without you."

"I know."

"If you had gotten hurt," he muttered, voice breaking, "I don't think I would've made it."

Silent tears ran down Gwen's cheeks at the implication of his words. But she refused to back down. "If she had been forced to live in fear of herself for much longer, she wouldn't have made it either," she replied thickly, emotions she had tried to suppress crashing over her in waves, "That's why I did it." Gwen did not want him to apologize. She knew that he was traumatized from his time in a post-apocalyptic wasteland, had seen when he had found everyone he had ever cared for dead and half-way buried in the rubble. She could never ask him to apologize for letting those memories get to the better of him. Never. But she refused to stand for the irrational fear Vanya was subjected to by her family, all because they could not, _would not_, help her.

"I love you," Five whispered, taking a step closer to her, "And I'll be honest, if you go to that dinner with Carmine I will kill him." He watched Gwen's eyebrow furrow in confusion and immediately understood that he had been tricked. However much he tried, Five could not find it within himself to be angry with his family. While the bridge had yet to be completely fixed, at least he was getting somewhere. "I knew, when you met them after we killed Reginald," he explained, "that you would end up helping out a lot more than we deserve." Gwen gave no reply. He walked a little closer, feeling trepidatious the closer he got with no reaction from her. "I was afraid that you would trade me for one of them and when you went behind my back…" He broke off, looking up at the ceiling as he stubbornly fought against the stinging in his eyes. He was choking, choking on his emotions and the mere idea that had he waited much longer she would have chosen someone else. He flinched in surprise when a cool hand came to rest on his cheek while another settled on his chest. "After losing you the first time…" Gwen silenced him with a gentle kiss. She knew, of course she did.

* * *

They had never actually spoken about his insecurities. Five liked to pretend he did not have them and Gwen indulged him because she knew him well enough to understand that there would be a time when he would open up to her. Hearing him talk in his sleep during nightmares, the images she saw in his mind whenever they had not seen each other for a while, it all contributed to her putting together an idea of just what he was so afraid of. He had lived without her for years, with nothing but the mangled remains of the city to keep him company. Gwen knew that he was afraid that she would leave him by choice, shun him for leaving her. She had no idea how to convince him otherwise. "I don't think I could leave you even if I wanted to," she whispered, doing nothing to keep the tears from falling, "Not after everything we've been through, not after all the promises we've made to each other."

"I'm still not sorry," he replied, burying his face in her hair, "You put yourself in danger and I have a right, as someone who loves you, to be upset about that." Five felt her nod and breathed in her scent, trying to ignore the urge to replace it with his own. They had been apart for so long that the lingering trace of him that usually followed her around was gone. At the moment, he figured it was more important to finish repairing the damage before he ravished her against a bookshelf. "I should have listened to you before I yelled."

Gwen nodded, sighing. "I should have slapped you and forced you to listen."

"Can we please try to avoid fighting like that again," he asked, daring to let a tone of mischief sneak into his voice, "I try to save my temper for Luther, you know that." Her laughter was silenced by his kiss. He had crossed into a territory he had never ventured into before, not even with her, and the need to make himself feel better by bringing her to the brink of an orgasm as many times as she would let him before he pushed her over the edge, his name falling from her lips in a scream, was overwhelming. They had yet to cross that final line. And when they did, it would not be in the third-floor library. So he settled for falling back onto a nearby couch, pulling her with him. Five felt as though no time had passed as he maneuvered them so he was on top, kissing down her throat as one hand undid the buttons of her blouse with practiced ease while the other hiked her skirt up her thighs. He needed to assure himself that when Tristan _fucking_ Carmine saw her in school the next day, his scent would still be clinging to her. There was nothing gentle about the way he touched her, nothing caring about the bite marks he left on every patch of bare skin he could reach. Though Gwen's hands were clenching around the pillow behind her, Five felt the buttons on his own shirt come undone and he almost felt insulted that she still had enough wits about her to use her powers. He indulged her long enough for the dark gray fabric to flutter to the floor. Then he took complete control, alternating between kissing and biting down her chest and abdomen, settling comfortably between her thighs.

All thoughts of the fact that her mother was just downstairs and could walk in on them at any moment were forgotten as Five devoured her. Gwen struggled to keep quiet, which only served to spur her lover on. She longed to be able to give back, to be able to make him feel as good as she did. However, Five's goal was to remind her that he would always prioritize her as well as remind himself that he was the only one she would ever allow to touch her the way he did. So Gwen let herself succumb to the sensations, not enough to make a sound but enough to let him know she appreciated his ministrations. She came apart at the seams, colors bursting behind her eyelids as her mouth fell open in a silent scream. Quivering, she felt Five grin smugly against the inside of her thigh and, had she been able to, she would have rolled her eyes.

"Good to know I haven't forgotten how to do that," he quipped, kissing her deeply as she continued to recover from her orgasm, "You'd never let me live it down if I had." Distracting her with another kiss, he slipped her underwear into the back pocket of his pants. He did not necessarily need a physical reminder of their encounter, it would still be fresh in his mind when he returned home to grab a _cold_ shower, but it did help boost his ego just a little. Pulling away from her took nearly all of his willpower. "I should get home, just to assure them that I'm alive," he murmured against her lips, "but if you want, I'll come back later."

Gwen gave him her best pout, knowing what it did to him. "I'd rather you didn't leave at all," she replied, "I can feel you, you know." She rolled her hips against his and Five cursed colorfully. To her disappointment, and his visible relief, the sound of her mother calling her name stopped her from further tormenting him. He jumped them, and his discarded shirt, into her bedroom where he left her with a kiss and a promise of later. Gwen fell back onto her bed, smiling widely as she stared at the ceiling.

* * *

In hindsight, Five realized that he should have put on his shirt before jumping into his room. Normally, that would not have been a problem. With no door, however, it became a different matter altogether. Especially since all of them were still there, even though he had been gone for nearly forty minutes. An awkward silence fell over them. Vanya and Ben both looked scandalized while Allison and Klaus seemed vaguely impressed. Diego tried to focus his gaze on anything he could find _except_ Five and Luther's eyes were firmly trained on his toes. "I'll be in the shower," Five finally informed them, moving around his siblings, "If you need something, don't."

Diego found his brother toweling his hair dry fifteen minutes later. "So, a contractor is coming over later this week to replace your doorframe," he said, shoving his hands into the pockets on his hoodie, "so maybe it's a good idea for you to stay at the Silvers' until then." He had so many questions and all of them made for an awkward conversation. He lingered in the doorway to the bathroom, shoving his hands into the front pockets of his jeans as he tried to figure out how to even begin. Finally, Five turned to him with an exasperated expression on his face.

"Yes, Diego?"

Before he could stop himself, Diego blurted out the first question that came to mind. "How does one go about resuming a physical relationship with someone after being separated for a long time?" Five gave him a perplexed look and he tried to figure out a way to explain that would not make things worse. Coming up empty, he sighed and sat down on the closed toilet seat. "I slept with Vanya in the old timeline and then everything went to hell and now I don't know how the fuck to tell her that I want to do _so _much more than just kiss her."

"Ever tried using words?"

"Funny."

"Wasn't trying to be funny, I have no idea what you're talking about."

It was Diego's turn to be surprised. "But you and Gwen…"

"Only actually started a physical relationship in this timeline," Five replied, "and there wasn't much talking, I assure you." Diego frowned and the shorter of the two rolled his eyes, crossing his arms across his chest. "Look, you've had a girlfriend before, right?" A nod. "Well, then you probably managed to get past it before, yes?" Another nod. "Then why the fuck are you torturing me with this," Five exclaimed, throwing his hands up, "when you already know how?"

Diego groaned in frustration. "I just don't want it to be awkward."

"And this isn't, you say?" Five scoffed, fed up. "Diego, do you love her?" His brother nodded and gave him a look that clearly stated that it had been a stupid question. Growling, Five shoved Diego out of the bathroom and pushed him down the hallway until he stood in front of Vanya's door. "Then lead with that." Sick of his brother's lack of spine, the fifty-nine-year-old teenager knocked on the door and jumped back into his room, listening as Diego sputtered an excuse to a clearly bemused Vanya. He smirked as the girl apparently took things into her own hands, the sound of a door slamming shut followed by a dull thud reaching his ears. His smirk turned into a soft smile as he remembered that he would be spending his night with Gwen by his side.


	8. Chapter VIII

Waking up with Five had quickly become one of Gwen's favorite things all those years ago when it started. However, she found that waking up with him while sharing sweet kisses and murmured words of affection was even better. Only in the morning did she really get to experience sweet Five, rather than passionate or irritated Five, and she savored every moment whenever she could. Gwen yawned and stretched, smiling at the weight draped over her torso. Their fingers had untangled at some point in the night, but his arm remained steadfastly where he left it. Looking at him, she found him still sleeping with his face turned away from her. Granted, it was only half five in the morning, but she had to be in school at 8:00 for assembly and the drive took an hour. Without too much remorse, Gwen sat up, moving to run her fingers through Five's hair. Her smile softened as she listened to his grumblings. After a few minutes, his eyes opened and his arm squeezed around her middle, his head turning toward her.

"Morning," he muttered, pulling her down beside him again, "Do I want to know what time it is?" Gwen shook her head and he groaned, shifting to bury his head in her shoulder. She laughed quietly, tracing up and down his back. "Why do you wake me at such an unforgivable hour?" Five kissed her neck softly before lifting his head so he could look at her

The glimmer of pure, unadulterated adoration in his eyes had Gwen wishing she could stay that way forever. But school, particularly one as strict as Ophelia Murphy's, waited for no one. "The drive to school takes forever, you know that, and I have to get ready."

"Or you could take it slow and I'll take you to school," he offered, only half-serious, "You'll be there on time without the horrifying, early mornings." He knew she would never agree to have him drop her off at school, due to propriety or whatever, but it was never too early to rile her up a little. Even though there were far more pleasant ways to do so.

"Okay," she replied, giggling at the expression on his face, "I don't really feel like getting up." She squeaked in surprise when Five rolled over, bringing her to lie on top of him. Gwen ran a thumb along his jaw, smiling warmly at him. He surprised her again when he surged up to press his lips against hers, his hands delicately cupping her jaw while hers clutched his forearms. While the kiss was brief, they remained in the same position for a little longer, silently discussing their plans for the day. While Gwen endured school, Five was going to help the whole family help Klaus prepare for a date. "I really need to get ready," she finally murmured, reluctantly pulling away from him, "Could you please go get us some breakfast while I dress and do my hair?" Five jumped to the kitchen and Gwen turned to her selection of headbands.

Though reluctant to admit it, Five nearly dropped the tray when he returned to Gwen's room and saw her decided upon outfit. He set their breakfast down, straining to remember the decade she had settled for. Most of his time working for the Commission might have been mostly murder and paperwork, but it did help him with his girlfriend's closet. "Fifties, right?"

"Yeah, I wanted to go for something different." Smoothing out her charcoal gray pencil skirt, Gwen regarded herself in the mirror as she tried to decide what color kitten heels to wear. Had she only worn her skirt and white, Peter Pan-collar blouse it would have been fine to wear black ones, but glancing once again at her minty green cardigan she finally decided on her white ones. Making sure her ponytail and headband were as immaculate as she could possibly get them, Gwen turned to Five. "Do you think this will pass?"

"I don't know," he replied, taking a sip of orange juice, "If it helps the assessment, I'm reluctant to actually let you go." Five handed her a piece of buttered toast, smirking as she rolled her eyes at him. He was not joking, though. He much preferred that she kept the curves accentuated by her clothes between the two of them. It was amenable, he supposed, that he would be dropping her off in school for all to see. "You look beautiful." Five looked at the clock, seeing that it was about time to finish up breakfast. He would have preferred if she had something more to eat, she was going to be starving come lunch, but he also knew that she was a punctual person and would want to be in school at least half an hour before it started. Wrapping an arm around her waist, Five whisked Gwen away to Ophelia Murphy's.

* * *

Apparently, the entire school had decided to not be early _and_ outside when Gwen arrived. They landed just outside the entrance doors, in view of what seemed to be the whole student body, all of whom turned to stare as they appeared. She tried to ignore them though, looking up at her boyfriend. "Dinner at yours tonight?" Five nodded and Gwen gave him a wide smile. She could tell that he was hesitant, wanting to kiss her but feeling unsure of whether she would let him. So, of course, Gwen took the situation into her own hands and pulled him down to her. The second their lips met, she was pulled into his head. Images of her and the things they had done flashed before her inner eye. Her skin marked by his teeth, his fingers in her hair. She pulled away from him, blushing furiously. "You did that on purpose," she muttered against his lips, "Bastard."

Smirking, Five took a step back as he grabbed her hand. He bowed deeply, pressing a light kiss to her knuckles. "Of course not," he murmured against her skin, all too innocently, "That would be highly improper, wouldn't it?" Gwen's blush deepened and Five felt as though his job was done. He winked at her and disappeared with the promise to pick her up when her classes were over.

Gwen faced the students of Ophelia Murphy's, realizing in hindsight that perhaps it would have been a better idea to announce her relationship in some other way. But there was only so much she could do, Tristan Carmine had been spreading rumors about a potential meeting between his parents and her grandparents. She could not tell Five about it, he would go ballistic. And while the attention she was receiving made her anxious, at least she had made it clear that there was not, nor would there be, an agreement between the Silvers and the Carmines. It was, Gwen found, enough to think of the devil, as she looked up to meet the furious gaze of Tristan Carmine himself. Well, _himself_ was a bit of an exaggeration. He had several of his snobby little friends with him. Sighing, she hoisted her bag higher on her shoulder. "What do you want, Mr. Carmine?"

"My parents told me that they were arranging a meeting with Henry and Annie-May Silver," he growled, towering over her in an attempt to intimidate her, "And yet, you show up with another guy." He heard snickers and giggles from the still staring audience and threw a vicious glare in their direction before he turned back to Gwen. "I knew you were loose, how could you not be with a mother like yours, but I never thought you were a slut." Tristan barely had time to react before someone shot out of the crowd and shoved him roughly. Realizing who it was, he pushed back just as hard, making his attacker fall backward, teetering on the top of the stairs.

Acting as quick as she could, Gwen caught the falling student's hand and used a strength that surprised even her to pull him back on both feet. "You know what, Tristan," she said sadly, looking at the boy who could have been her future, "I think we both know that you do not really want an agreement with me." He looked startled for a moment before his eyes hardened. Gwen was not having it though, holding up a hand to stop him from saying something so disparaging she would not be able to hide it from Five. "You should know that Five Hargreeves and I have an agreement," she continued, "He has been approved by my mother and will be my escort to the debutante." Stepping up to him, she leveled Tristan with a glare that would make Five cower. He backed away from her and she followed until he was pressed against the wall. "Now, I am willing to forget how you spread false rumors about us, but I will only do so if you apologize to Mr. Abernathy."

Tristan glared disdainfully at the boy behind her, intending to ignore her request. It would not reflect well on him though if his words and actions got back to his parents, should she decide not to let it pass and tell her mother about it. So he forced himself to acquiesce her request. "Please, do forgive me for almost pushing you down the stairs."

"And what of your foul words to Miss Silver?"

Suppressing a snarl, Tristan looked back to Gwen. "I do apologize for my wrongful words, Miss Silver." The smirk on her face made him sick. He hated losing, hated humiliation. Yet the blonde in front of him had turned his anger against him, made him lose control in front of the entire school. No doubt, they would be whispering about the incident for days. Without waiting for a reply, he threw the doors open and stalked into the school, his cronies following him dutifully.

"Thank you."

Gwen turned around at the voice, meeting Nathan Abernathy's gaze. "What for?"

"No one really stands up to him," Nathan stated, dismayed by the fact, "Especially not for people they don't know." He had never actually spoken to Gwen Silver before. She usually kept to herself, and as a fellow introvert, he understood her. The community they lived in was toxic enough without spending excess time with the members of it. "You're right, by the way," he continued, hoisting his bag higher onto his shoulder as he and Gwen walked side by side into the school, "I don't think there's any _woman_ good enough for Tristan Carmine." His companion looked saddened by the fact, confusing him greatly. He doubted she was disappointed, considering the display with her boyfriend just minutes earlier.

With a heavy sigh, Gwen stopped at her locker and grabbed the book she needed in the class she had after assembly. "I understand his reluctance to come out," she said quietly, "I just wish he channeled his anger into something other than attempts to drag me down with him." Nathan nodded thoughtfully, leaning against the locker beside hers. Frowning, she regarded him for a minute. "Something tells me you understand it too." His eyes widened and he looked around as though the noise around them was not enough to cover her voice. She lifted an eyebrow at him, causing him to sag against the lockers. "I won't judge, you know," she assured, closing her locker door, "I just feel bad, though, that there are so many within our community that are forced to hide who they are for the sake of our ancestors' desire to continue the lines, especially whenever I see Klaus having so much fun on his dates." They resumed walking, heading towards the auditorium.

"There's a group," Nathan said carefully, glancing around to ensure that no one was listening to him, "The Secret Society of Pride." Gwen raised both eyebrows curiously, a slight smile on her face. Rubbing the back of his head awkwardly, Nathan got the feeling that she knew exactly what the Society was, despite being too straight to have been invited. "We meet a couple of times a week," he explained, "We just want love, no matter its form or who it comes from." The soft smile on Gwen's face told him that she knew what it was like to be in love. He wanted that, wanted to know what it was like to be openly in love with someone. His relationship was behind closed doors, only known within the Society. He wanted to take his boyfriend to the debutante, wanted to openly court with the intention to marry. "You could come to one of the meetings if you'd like," he offered, "We would love to know how the hell you foiled Henry and Annie-May Silver _as well as_ the Carmine family."

They reached the auditorium before Gwen could answer and were quickly separated by their teachers. Sitting down in the girls' section of the room, she caught Nathan's gaze and nodded quickly. He beamed at her, settling into his seat to whisper to some guys sitting with him. Feeling hopeful that she could help someone else find happiness the way she had, Gwen took out her notebook and began planning. By the time assembly was over, she had a solid idea on how to help the Secret Society of Pride to be so much more than just a secret comfort for those who should not need to hide. It would take time and money. Thankfully, she happened to have enough of both.

* * *

Come lunch, Nathan pulled Gwen aside as she was heading to the lone table in the corner of the cafeteria she usually enjoyed. She threw him a confounded look but followed without a fight. He led her halfway across the school, dragging her into an abandoned classroom. Sweeping his hands out in a grand gesture, he introduced her to his friends. "Gwendolyn Silver, allow me to present the Secret Society of Pride." The few people present waved at her awkwardly. Nathan, exasperated, placed his hands on his hips in the best imitation of his mother yelling at the maid he could muster. "Guys, chill out," he reprimanded, "She won't bite." They all nearly choked on air when the girl in question muttered something about '_right circumstances_' and '_couldn't wear short nightgowns for over a week_'. He gawked at her and she flushed when she realized that she had spoken aloud. Her reaction, and its stark contrast to her words, had Nathan doubling over in laughter. Gwen buried her face in her hands as the others joined him, even as she chuckled. Wrapping an arm around her, Nathan placed her lunch at an empty seat. "You're going to fit right in, Miss Silver," he said jovially, making her laugh, "Now please, do elaborate on that little remark of yours."

"Actually, I'm far more curious about the display this morning."

With a raised eyebrow, Gwen turned to a student she recognized as Jones Lamontagne. He was attractive and highly intelligent, though he was often quiet and, if she was being quite honest, a little dull. Had she not seen the impossibility, she would have guessed he had never seen a bright color in his life. If fact, he was the exact opposite of Klaus, though she supposed he was exactly… Her eyes widened as she realized the treasure she had stumbled upon. Smirking at him, she leaned closer. "How would you feel about meeting him instead," she wondered innocently, noticing how he shifted nervously, "You could see for yourself just what he means to me." She could not resist playing with him a little, she wanted to see just how far he could be pushed. Taking a bite of her chicken pot pie, she regarded him silently before continuing. "Simon is quite an accomplished cook and I'm sure that he would happily set another place at dinner tonight."

"I… Okay?"

* * *

When Five arrived to pick Gwen up from school, he was immediately taken aback by the massive grin on her face. He did not think he had ever seen her look _happy_ after school before. Grumpy, irritated or tired, sure. Never happy. His impression that Ophelia Murphy's somehow managed to suck the joy from every student within its halls was apparently false, he thought as he accepted Gwen's kiss and swept her away. They landed in her bedroom, but to his absolute disappointment, she did not stay. He had barely let her go before she was out the door, shouting for Simon. Running after her, Five caught her at the bottom of the staircase, where both Simon and Monica stared at her in befuddlement.

"Simon, please set the table for a party of five tonight," she said, still grinning widely as she turned to face her boyfriend, "You get your behind home and ask your brother to come to dinner."

"Which one?" Five was getting more confused by the minute.

"Why, Klaus of course!"

* * *

**Hey guys! I know it's been a while, I've been suffering from writer's block regarding this story. It does help to see that people still seem to want to read it. I think I'll finish this story soon, I have two or three major things left to add in before the epilogue. Thank you for your patience and the fact that some of you actually seem to enjoy the story.**

**As always, most of my writing is credited to _Jane L. Black_ who encourages and supports me.**

**Love, Queenie**


	9. Chapter IX

**Well, Janie, you requested a dinner party. I just hope you can stand the cliffhanger that comes along with it. Happy reading. Or not, I leave this chapter on a cliffhanger worth its name. Leave your reactions in the reviews!**

* * *

Klaus arrived with Five two hours later, dressed in his finest skirt. Well, it was Allison's but what she did not know would not kill her. Probably. Seeing Gwen, waiting in the foyer for him, Klaus immediately pulled her into a hug. "Gwenny, what a delight," he exclaimed in his best British accent, "We need to get together for a spa day, love, it's been ages since we caught up!" Completely ignoring Five's disgruntled expression, the fourth Hargreeves child swept the blonde socialite into a dramatic recount of his disastrous date. He did not stop talking until the doorbell rang loudly, bypassing both a frozen Five and mildly offended Simon as he tore the door open. Seeing the specimen on the other side of the barrier made his jaw drop and he remained there, gawking.

"Klaus Hargreeves, meet Jones Lamontagne." Gwen was smug and utterly unabashed by the fact. She stuck her tongue out at Five when he gave her a suspicious look and pulled Klaus away from the door to let Jones inside. "Jones Lamontagne, meet Klaus Hargreeves." The two still had not stopped staring at each other. From the corner of her eye, Gwen saw Five reach out and shut Klaus' mouth, prompting his brother to give a coquettish smirk as he approached Jones. Before he could say something, Simon appeared behind him, stoic as always.

Hands clasped behind his back, the butler gave a small bow and took Jones' coat. "Dinner is served, Miss Silver." He disappeared again without another word, smirking to himself as he came to understand his young music student's earlier behavior.

"This way lady and gentlemen," Gwen said, chuckling as Klaus tittered playfully at her, "For tonight, Simon has decided to grace our palate with flavors from his journeys abroad, which means I have absolutely no idea what exactly he has been cooking." She kissed Five on the cheek as he pulled her chair out and tucked her in before taking the seat beside her, the resulting soft smile turning into a smirk as they both observed Jones doing the same for Klaus, who blushed furiously as he sat down. Five laughed quietly at the terrified look on Jones' face, wincing when Gwen jabbed him in the ribs with her elbow. Noticing her mother's absence, she called for Simon. "Simon, is Mother not joining us?"

"The older Miss is on a date," Simon informed them, unable to stop himself from sounding dry, "I expect we will not be seeing her till morning."

Gwen rolled her eyes. "Well, it would be a shame to let perfectly good food go to waste," she commented, shaking her head slightly in exasperation, "Why won't you join us, Simon, I assure that it will be an eventful dinner." He glanced at Klaus, who was draping himself over a red-faced Jones and gave a barely noticeable smirk before sitting down. Nodding in approval, Gwen took a bite of the francesinha in front of her. It was unlike anything the elite usually ate, sticking to dishes they knew how to cook. While Gwen had no idea what exactly it contained, she found it delicious. Apparently, her guests and Five did as well, with both Hargreeves wolfing down the content on their plates while Jones, raised much like Gwen, took his time to actually cut and chew his food. To absolutely no one's surprise, Five and Klaus were finished first.

* * *

Once dinner was over, the teenagers retreated to the first-floor sitting room, where Simon tried to play the piano, only to be asked by Klaus to tell stories about his travels. While the butler entertained her guests, Gwen finally allowed Five to pull her aside. "Yes, my love?" He gave her a pointed look, gesturing in the general direction of Klaus and Jones. She raised her eyebrows at him, feigning ignorance as though she could not read his mind.

"Why?" It was not that he minded that his brother had someone to admire, he just did not appreciate being blindsided. He was not, in the least, a fan of surprises. For all he knew, a surprise could kill him.

Pecking his jaw sweetly, Gwen cuddled into his side. "You have to admit that Jones is a little… boring," she said, indicating the teen in question with a toss of her head, "Even _I_ am not that proper." Five nodded reluctantly and she gave him a victorious smile. He shook his head, the beginnings of a smile tugging at his lips. "Klaus needs someone to keep him grounded and Jones needs… what's something colorful… a butterfly," she exclaimed, "I think they will be a great match and I have the utmost faith that they will make each other happy."

"What about the procreation obsession?"

A wicked smile spread over her lips as she looked up at Five, though she absently wondered when he got so tall. "We managed to work around the arranged marriage thing by having you ask my mother permission before my grandparents could meet with the Carmines, correct?" Five nodded cautiously, mulling her words over before his eyes went wide. His gaze snapped between his brother and his girlfriend so quickly that she could not help but think he had gotten whiplash. "I imagine, as long as it is Jones who does the asking, that the same rules of propriety apply here," she explained unnecessarily, wrapping the arm that had fallen off her shoulder around herself again, "It is a great shame to back out of an agreement, you ought to know this by now."

Five fell unceremoniously onto the couch, taking a startled Gwen down with him. "This… you… Gwenny, they just met!"

"Your point being?"

"How can you be so sure that they'll be good together," he asked, feeling his protective side come out, "What if this Jones guy breaks Klaus, who just hit seven months sober?" Yet, there was something about the way Gwen watched his brother and her friend interact that made him hesitant in his protests. He wondered if she had seen something, if she had been informed in a vision that Jones and Klaus would work. "I suppose they would be cute together," he relented, finding it futile and risky to argue with her, "If Jones ever gets over Klaus' Klaus-ness."

Simon stood from the piano bench, rolling his eyes when he caught the awestruck Hargreeves wipe some drool away as he stared at Miss Gwendolyn's friend. So far, the conversation between the two had been one side flirting and one side polite responses. There was no doubt, Simon thought, that Miss Gwendolyn certainly knew how to mismatch perfect couples. "It is getting quite late," he said politely, nodding to Mr. Abernathy, "I imagine the young sir must be getting home soon." Glancing at the clock, Miss Gwendolyn's friend nodded. Simon went to fetch his coat while the teenagers bid one another goodbye. With Mr. Abernathy gone, it was irrefutable that Mr. Hargreeves would be leaving too, and Simon would be left alone with Five and Miss Gwendolyn.

* * *

True to his predictions, Simon met Five and Gwen as he headed into the foyer with Jones' jacket. The pair quietly whispered that Klaus had offered to accompany Jones until his driver arrived, however short of a waiting period that was. Simon nodded at the pair and they disappeared into Gwen's room to get ready for bed. The door har not fully closed before Five unbuttoning the top buttons of his shirt to tug it over his head. Gwen laughed when he did not even spare her a glance as he undressed and disappeared beneath the covers. "Throwing a tantrum then?"

"You made me double date with my wacky brother," he whined, "I'll never get the image of Klaus undressing your friend with his eyes out of my head."

"Klaus is not wacky," Gwen defended, shaking her head in amusement, "He's just looking for love and happened to find a prospect in Mr. Abernathy." While Five sulked, she took her time to get comfortable, removing her makeup and undoing her elaborate updo at a leisurely pace. Frowning at her nightgowns, she contemplated what color to go with. She settled on a black one, using telekinesis to unzip the dress she was wearing. Finally dressed for bed, Gwen slipped under the comforter and turned to Five. "You know, Klaus needs to be allowed to make his own decisions," she murmured, "I didn't introduce him to Jones solely to see if they had romantic chemistry, I genuinely think that they will be good for each other, whether as friends or more." When Five elected not to reply, Gwen slid her hands over his chest before stopping on his shoulders. "We were good for each other, remember?"

Five relented that his life was far less worth living without _some_ happiness, also known as Gwen, in it and he supposed that if Jones did that for Klaus, he could not complain.

* * *

At Ophelia Murphy's the next day, Gwen had barely set foot into the school before she was pulled into an empty closet. The bare bulb above her flickered before a dim light illuminated the space and her captor. Jones glared at her fiercely, a look that only intensified when the blonde could not resist a wicked smirk. "Had trouble sleeping, did we?"

"How did you… never mind-" the bulky teen shook away the thought- "You knew I would like Klaus!" His closet companion gave him a look of absolute glee, and as he retraced his words, Jones winced. Had the space allowed him to, he would have started pacing. As no such space was available, he settled for grabbing Gwen's shoulders and shaking her lightly. "This is soo taboo it is not even funny," he ranted, ignoring the chuckles from the girl opposite him, "There's a reason I am still in the closet as far as my parents are concerned." Even in the barely lit room, Jones could see the mischievous spark in Gwen's eyes. Understanding immediately what she would say, he gave her an exasperated look. "Don't," he deadpanned, "Now is not the time."

Taking _some_ pity on him, Gwen patted his cheek in an indubitably patronizing way. "Let me tell you the story of how Henry and Annie-May Silver were thwarted by a couple of fourteen-year-olds." Exiting the closet, after first ensuring that there was no one in the hall to catch them, Gwen dragged Jones along as she recounted how she had almost been forced to attend a very _intentional_ dinner with the Carmines only for Five to sweep her off her feet. "Get to know him, figure out if he is debutante ball material," she suggested, stopping outside the library, "If it does not work, it will remain clandestine." Cutting off her sentence there, she left him with the unspoken possibility spinning in his head. Matchmaking or not, she had a study hall to get to. Which is to say, she had a spa night with Klaus to plan in the back of the library where no one would think to look for her.

* * *

Afternoon saw Gwen stumbling into the house when Simon dropped her off at home. She had been feeling dizzy on and off all day, her eyesight sometimes going black before it returned. Eventually, she gave up on powering through and asked to go to the nurse's office, claiming she suffered from severe menstrual cramps, where she remained until Simon came to pick her up. Something was not as it should be. Her blacked out moments felt much like when she was pulled into a vision but all she saw was pitch black darkness. Every nerve was tingling, warning her of something. Hoping to sleep it off before Klaus came over, Gwen sluggishly made her way to her room, dropping her bag on her desk. The dull thud had barely reached her ears before someone grabbed her from behind. Someone whose mere touch told her it was not Five. Using telekinesis, she launched a book in the estimated direction of her attacker. A masculine grunt of pain registered vaguely in her mind but the man did not release her. Forcing herself into his head, she saw flashes of the same white-haired woman she had seen in Five's mind. Fear nearly knocked her over and she just managed to tip over the grandfather clock before a searing pain shot from the back of her head through her body. Everything went black.

* * *

Klaus Hargreeves did not think he had ever felt as appreciated as he did whenever Gwen was around. She helped him expand his closet with clothes that did not suit her complexion but worked wonders for his. She invited him over for mani-pedis and always turned to him for help with revamping her makeup looks. Ben tagged along a lot of the time, still unused to being seen by anyone, yet Gwen always made sure to have a steaming cup of hot chocolate for him to sip while Klaus painted her nails. However, Ben had decided to go see a movie with Allison while Vanya was out with Diego, therefore he was alone to find the book lying on the floor beside the grandfather clock he knew Gwen cherished. Glass, from the broken closet door, was spread over the floor. Klaus did not hesitate to run out of the house back to his own. He knew Five would be in his room, waiting for spa night to be over, and almost ran into the door in his haste to alert him. There was no doubt about it. "Five," he shouted as he almost pulled the door off its hinges, "Something's happened."

While Five would normally jump to Gwen's room, he followed Klaus, who barely stopped to breathe before turning on his heel to go back to the Silvers'. He needed to know what his brother had seen, needed assurance that Gwen was okay and that it was nothing more than Klaus being dramatic. Seeing the mess in the usually immaculate room made his world spin. There was glass everywhere, the book he kept on his bedside table lay open on the floor beside the knocked-over clock. He tried to calculate what exactly had happened, something that was made all the more difficult by Gwen's powers. It took longer than he wanted to admit to put together a plausible scenario. The only piece he could not place was the grandfather clock. If his calculations were correct, Gwen and her likely attacker had been too far from the clock to tip it by accident. The glass door, probably broken in the struggle, would indicate so, meaning that it was intentional. Five barely heard Klaus' panicked rambling, his brother's voice sounding as though he was hearing it through water as he tried to figure out what it meant. When it hit him, Five felt sick.

"Five?" Klaus observed his brother warily as he went deathly pale. "Five, what is it?"

"It's the Commission," the boy whispered, ignoring the glass cutting into his skin as he fell to his knees, "The Commission has Gwen."


	10. Chapter X

**Well, here's chapter 10. It's a little shorter than the others, simply because I thought the ending was a good segue into the next one. Happy reading!**

* * *

It was strange, Five thought as he paced a hole in the living room carpet, how life without Gwen was as much of a wasteland as the apocalypse had been. It meant absolutely nothing that his family, both the Silver part and the Hargreeves part, were watching him with worried eyes. It did not matter that they were alive. What mattered was that he did not know if Gwen was alive, or, if she was, when and where they had taken her. Cursing himself for not anticipating that the Commissioner would make a move, he dragged a hand down his face and sighed heavily. It would not do to worry. Clearly, the Commission already had some idea of Gwen's significance and he refused to make her seem even more valuable from a negotiating point of view. They had to have watched him since his arrival in the past. That was what the Commission did, watched and took out any threats to the timeline. But with Gwen's introduction to the Hargreeves family, everything had changed. Klaus was sober, Vanya was powerful but controlled, Allison dumped Luther on account of him being a d- Five stopped himself from going further. If only he could figure out why they made a move after such a long time. Had they taken her sooner, before she could affect the timeline, their goal might have been accomplished. Kidnapping Gwen seven months after her impact on his family, that just pissed him off.

"Five?" In the hours since the discovery that Gwen was missing, everyone had been walking on eggshells around Five. He snarled at anyone who dared to come too close and twice thus far he had thrown the closest fragile object he could get his hands on at the wall because it was better than choking the life out of the nearest living being. Even Grace stopped working in the kitchen for fear of the smallest sound sending him into a murderous rage. Vanya's whisper of her brother's name was the first sound, with the exception of breathing, that had been heard since the announcement. The more he paced, the warier his family grew. He was muttering to himself and Vanya was unsure if she wanted to know exactly what was being said. "Five, we'll find her."

The mocking, maniacal laugh that rose from Five's throat made them all flinch. He did not particularly care. "_We_ can't find her, _we_ can't do anything," he spat maliciously, "_I_ will find her because _I'm_ the only one who has the power to save her." Now, whether that was true or not, he did not know. Again, he did not particularly care. Ignoring the images of fallen buildings and rubble that flashed before his eyes, Five tried to think. He needed coffee or alcohol, whichever was closest. He needed to think, needed to find Gwen before she died and took his sanity with her.

* * *

When Gwen woke up, she was propped up against the pillows in her bed. At least, she thought it was her bed. It was the same headboard, if only a little less polished. In its usual corner, the grandfather clock ticked merrily. The heavy oak desk stood where it always had. Allowing herself to admit that, at the very least, she knew _where_ she was, Gwen sat up fully. The sun shone through the window, illuminating the dust in the air. It helped her some in her attempt to pinpoint _when _she was. Recalling the longwinded speeches about the Silver properties she had been subjected to by her grandfather, Gwen could narrow down that she was somewhere between the Twenties and late Seventies. It was the only time since it was built that the townhouse had stood unoccupied, between her great grandparents' move to the upstate manor and her mother's moving in just after she'd turned eighteen. A fifty-year margin was certainly better than nothing, she thought, looking out through the window. The more accurate she was, the easier it would be for Five to find her.

* * *

Having finally given in to the worried suggestions of 'go to bed Five, you're not thinking clearly', Five lay on top of Gwen's covers. It felt strange, the lack of a warm body next to his. Simon, taking pity on him, had cleaned up the room. The broken closet door had been taken down to be brought to someone who could put in a new glass. Shifting, Five frowned as he heard something crinkling, not unlike paper. He sat up, lifting the decorative pillow he had been resting against. Under it lay a folded note. Its contents gave him chills.

_'__Figure out _when_ she is and meet us then, or else you will never see her pretty little face again.'_

* * *

Frustration boiled in Gwen's veins. She had been staring out the window all day trying to find someone holding a paper. The room was void of radios or any other means to help her get an exact date. Growling quietly to herself, she once again searched the room for any way out that did not include injuries or taking on the people she had no doubt were stationed outside her room to keep make sure she did not escape. Besides, she had no way of leaving whichever timeline she had been brought to. No, her only hope was finding the date. Eventually, a man holding a paper walked by outside with his wife, muttering about how it was unbelievable that only hours after the Kennedy assassination, the news was spread across the country. Catching sight of the front page, Gwen almost laughed. She had a way to tell Five when she was.

* * *

Whatever restless sleep Five had managed was interrupted by a strange scratching noise. At first, he did not hear it, believing it to be a figment of his tormented dreams. Then his consciousness caught up. He bolted upright, immediately seeking the source of the strange sound. He followed it to the desk under the window where the last letter of the most beautiful message he had ever seen was being carved. _November 22, 1963, 4:26 p.m._

Though his first instinct was to jump to her, Five paused. He would need weapons and coffee before he attempted to tackle the Commission again. He already had one blonde, beloved weapon waiting. But a gun or three might be helpful too. As well as a knife. He jumped into the Hargreeves home. Everyone else was asleep, Grace was charging. Sneaking silently around the house, he gathered the guns and ammunition he had hidden, just in case. Satisfied with his finds, Five jumped again.

* * *

The first thing he noticed once he regained his bearings was the shaking blonde in his arms. He had no recollection of wrapping them around her, but he was not about to complain. Until he realized that she was not crying. She was laughing. Five looked down at Gwen with a bemused frown. "What?"

"You promised to never let anyone take me away from you again," she reminded him with a wicked grin, "And I told you that they would die trying, slowly and painfully." Gwen was way past scared and angry. She had settled on vengeful the moment Five had landed in the Sixties. Nodding slowly, Five regarded her carefully. Gwen stood on her tiptoes, kissing his cheek before she leaned in to whisper in his ear. "What do you say we let them come," she suggested, "Let them come and let them die?"

With the exception of Sir Reginald's murder, Five had not heard a better plan. So he settled down on the bed with the love of his life, the same love he vowed to propose to the moment they got back, to wait for the Commissioner and whoever many lackeys she brought. Take out the Commissioner, end the entire organization. The agreement went unspoken. _Take out as many as you can._

It was pathetic how predictable the Commissioner was considering how well executed the sneak attack had been. Five knew she would not be able to resist coming to gloat to Gwen, or maybe even attempt to manipulate or torture information out of her. He hid in a dark corner, the sun had begun its descent below the horizon, and watched as the door opened and the white-haired woman who had ruined his life entered. She was followed by several armed agents.

"It seems your little boyfriend won't come through," she said triumphantly, "In the face of his betrayal, why don't you tell us how to best get to him?"

Gwen looked contemplative, biting the inside of her cheek in thought. Finally, she looked up and grinned. "Well, for one, I would stop underestimating him," she suggested, brushing off her clothes as she stood, "Second, it might help if you turned around."

The fight was quick and bloodless. Gwen used her powers to pin the Commissioner and Five had her neck twisted and spinal cord severed in seconds. The rest continued in a similar fashion. Gwen never lifted a finger, snapping the necks and stopping the hearts Five did not have time to reach. The time-traveling teen stabbed the others, always in such a way that there would not be bloodstains on the floor. No need to add to Simon's workload. They were left with a pile of bodies, easily disposed of with Gwen's telekinesis, and a Five felt as though a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. There would be others. But they would stop them before the thought to try something had even been fully processed. Once the bodies were gone, Five wrapped an arm around Gwen's waist and jumped them home.

* * *

They found themselves in the first-floor sitting room at the Silver residence. He had taken them to just a few minutes after he left. The only source of light available was the burning fireplace, its orange light reminding them both of the night when Five returned from the future that no longer existed. Gwen frowned when he pushed away from her, taking a step back. "What is it," she asked worriedly, "Are you hurt?"

"I actually need to talk to you about something," he murmured quietly, "Before we go to bed, preferably." He cleared his mind of all thoughts of her, wanting to surprise her. It seemed, however, as though his not thinking about her backfired. Gwen backed farther away from him, prompting Five to catch her hand in his. "You know I don't like talking about how I feel," he said, his voice just above a whisper, "So I'll just get to the point and ask if you want to marry me." His words were met with absolute silence. Looking at Gwen, Five was horrified to see tears in her eyes. Panicking a little, he tried again. "Okay, that wasn't very romantic," he muttered, getting down on one knee, "Gwendolyn Hayley Silver, will you marry me?"

Tears falling silently down her cheeks, Gwen tried to find her voice. She felt stupid for crying. She had known it was coming, and though she had not expected it to happen so soon, there was no reason to cry. Except maybe for the fact that she loved him. And he loved her. Oh, and also there was the fact that they wanted to spend their lives together. All she had to do was say yes. Remembering that she had not actually given him an answer yet, Gwen nodded, smiling so wide her cheeks hurt. It did not matter that they had not yet turned fifteen, or that in accepting his proposal she was breaking several of the rules she had been brought up to respect. Five was her endgame and clearly, judging by the nervous look in his otherwise stony gaze, she was his. When he made no move to get up, Gwen nodded again. "Yes, Five No-Middle-Name Hargreeves, I will marry you."

"I don't have a ring yet."

"I don't care."

"We'll still have to wait until we're eighteen to actually go through with the ceremony."

"I know."

"Klaus is going to kill me."

"What?"

Laughing along with Gwen, Five pressed a soft kiss against her hairline. "I promised Klaus he could help me prepare when the time came," he explained, "Think we can keep this from him until I can set something up for his sake?"

"Well, yes, but I don't think you actually want to." Gwen bit back a shriek as Five suddenly lifted her into his arms and spun her around. It seemed everything fell into place whenever she was near him. His embrace was warm and safe and hers alone. As was his love. Not a thing could touch them or tear them apart, not the decimated Commission, not the prevented apocalypse. Not even Five's frustration with silverware settings at formal dinners. "Keep me safe," she whispered against his collar.

"You know I will."


	11. Chapter XI

**This is it, people! The last chapter before the epilogue! Leave a review telling me what you think and if you have any hopes for the epilogue! Happy reading!**

* * *

As far as any of their friends and family knew, Five proposed to Gwen a month later. Klaus had been swooning as he followed his brother to the jewelry store to pick out a ring. While Five was mostly focused on the cushion cut diamonds, Klaus recounted the four dates he had been on with Jones. The fourth Hargreeves was ecstatic, going into great detail about the butterflies in his stomach whenever the elite teenager had done something particularly gentlemanly or romantic. By the eleventh ring alternative, Five was quite sick of his brother. He let him talk, however, still happy for Klaus. Had it not been for him, after all, Five may never have found the perfect ring.

"She likes rose quartz," he had commented absently, looking over Five's shoulder at the options he was surveying, "Set in gold, in particular, with little diamonds around it." At the look his brother had given him, Klaus held his hands up in defense. "We got to talking about it because I wanted to go try on what ring I want Jones to propose to me with."

It was that ring, the one Klaus had suggested, that Five presented to his fiancée when he re-proposed at a dinner with both of their families. Gwen had cried again as he slid the ring onto her finger. In all fairness, Ben and Klaus were crying too. Allison had wiped away a tear and Vanya had wiped away Diego's. Monica's reaction had been Five's personal favorite, as she had jokingly muttered about never getting rid of him while hugging him.

* * *

Between the kidnapping and the engagement, most of them forgot the debutante. Until game night two weeks before it was to take place. Gwen was playing chess with Vanya in the family room, cheered on by their competitive significant others, when there was a knock on the Hargreeves' front door. Five jumped to open the door, leaving his siblings and fiancée to look curiously into the hall. Ben groaned when Klaus took the opportunity to cheat at Monopoly, making Allison laugh behind her book. Luther had taken a long time to get over his relationship with Allison, but he laughed quietly with her. Both Five and Klaus were convinced that he was seeing someone. They all looked up when Five returned.

"It was for Mom."

Everyone nodded and went to go back to their activities, only to pause and look up again. Gwen quirked an eyebrow, but Five gave nothing away. Who could possibly have come for Grace? The woman was a robot designed to take care of and love her children, not make outside relationships. She got her answer when the Hargreeves' mother walked into the room followed by a nervous-to-the-point-that-his-knees-were-shaking Jones Lamontagne. Immediately, Gwen knew what was going to happen. Her hand flew to her mouth to stifle her gasp.

"Klaus Hargreeves," Jones said formally, clearing his throat, "We have not known each other long, nor have we gone out much." Klaus nodded, frowning. "However, I find myself unable to think of anyone but you," he continued, glancing nervously at the rest of his audience, "And I do not believe that I will ever connect with anyone the way I connect with you." He dropped to his knees in front of the dumbstruck Hargreeves son. Taking Klaus' hand in his, Jones asked the question that had been burning within him since they first met. "Will you graciously accept my offer of formal courtship and, by extension, attend the Ophelia Murphy Debutante as my intended?"

A confused silence followed. Klaus turned to Gwen. "What does that mean?"

"It's a fancy-pants way of asking if you will be his significant other," she replied, amused, "At least until you're eighteen and he can propose to you properly."

Klaus turned back to Jones, eyes wide. "Really?" The taller teen nodded, awkwardly scratching his neck. "You want us to be whatever the fuck they are?" He gestured in the general direction of Gwen and Five. Again, Jones nodded. The grin that spread over Klaus' face was large enough to hurt. "Okay." It was a simple answer. He did not need to think about it, did not need to worry about the fact that he was just a month away from being fifteen. All he needed to think about was how it felt to be kissed by Jones Lamontagne. His family cheered. Gwen shed a tear. Five looked strangely proud, which in turn made Klaus' eyes sting with unshed tears of his own. "I'm styling you for the dance," he stated, voice choked, "You have the color sense of a dead rat."

"I would not have it any other way," Jones replied, he too grinning, "Just no pink, please."

Everyone flinched when Klaus suddenly jumped up and pointed a stern finger at his sisters and Ben. "We need to go shopping, pronto." He saw Five open his mouth to protest and turned his determined gaze to his brother to silence him. "You're coming too," he decided, "We need someone to carry our bags." Again, Five began to protest, only to catch the indignant looks both Klaus and Gwen were giving him. He sighed in resignation.

"Fuck," he muttered, "Fine."

* * *

One could say many things about Klaus Hargreeves but most people did not expect him to be as good at moving things along as he was. Gwen had barely set down her school bag after returning him from school the next day before she was ambushed by the Hargreeves siblings. They ushered her into the Silver family's car, where Simon gave her an exasperated look. She had no idea what Klaus had done to convince the man to help, but she had a feeling that it involved a lot of nagging. They drove through town, to the shop that made most of Gwen's clothing. Gwen already had a dress for the debutante waiting in the back of the store, which Klaus immediately consulted before shoving Five into a changing room. The shop's assistants seemed rather pleased that he was doing their job for them and sat back to have tea.

Five exited the changing room, holding his arms out. "Well?" He was dressed in a charcoal gray three-piece suit. Klaus eyed him critically, gesturing for him to spin. With a pained look in Gwen's direction, Five did as he was told.

"The color is good," Klaus muttered to himself, turning to the seamstresses, "The pants need to be taken in at the waist, and the length needs to be adjusted." They nodded, approaching Five with measuring tape. "Jacket and vest's good, so's the shirt." Tilting his head, he gave his brother another look up and down before nodding with finality, pleased with what he was seeing. "We'll need a tie that matches Miss Silver's dress, of course, but I'm happy with the overall result." He politely ignored Five's dark grumblings and turned to the rest of his companions. "Who's next?"

The rest of the afternoon continued in the same fashion. Klaus, in between sips of tea, commanded color changes and style changes and whether or not any adjustments needed to be done. Five gave up on trying to decipher what his brother was saying on his own, turning to Ben for translation. "What the hell is mulberry?"

"A kind of purplish red."

"And periwinkle?"

"It's sort of a light bluish purple."

"How do you know this?"

"Years of only being able to talk to Klaus."

Five outright refused to buy anything other than his suit for the debutante. Being ordered around by Klaus was bad enough the first time. Still, between Klaus and the girls, and even Ben, there were plenty of bags to load into the car when Simon arrived to take them to the Italian restaurant they had decided on for dinner. Seeing the smile on Gwen's face as she saw him try on the suit one more time before they left made it all worth it for Five.

"So, Klaus," Allison said teasingly once their food had arrived, "Tell us more about Jones." Simultaneously, Ben and Five groaned. Klaus ignored them, launching into the same stories he had already told his brothers many times before, happily elaborating when he was asked questions.

* * *

A week before the debutante, things changed drastically in the Silver household. Jones, having come out to his less than accepting parents, had been kicked out of his family home and dragged into the Silver one. His tuition at Ophelia Murphy's was paid through his graduation and non-refundable, so his position as a student was safe. His parents, on the other hand, refused to acknowledge him. Gwen and Five had raged for hours along with Monica, while Klaus comforted Jones. They had all expected it, really, yet it was disheartening that they had been right. Jones, however, just expressed relief. "I can be whoever I want to be now," he explained, "And they cannot do a thing about it that is worse than what they have already done."

It was an adjustment for all of them. Simon was pleased to have another person to cook for, just as Klaus was happy to have his boyfriend nearby. It took some time for Jones to get used to finding Five shirtless at the dining room table in the mornings, as it was a rather obvious deviation from what he was used to. But at the end of the day, they were all pleased to have another addition to the family.

* * *

"Are you ready?" Gwen smiled gently at Jones as they stood outside the doors to Ophelia Murphy's ballroom. They would be announced soon, revealing to the entire school the truth of why Jones had been thrown out. She was dressed in a silk, mermaid cut evening gown that perfectly matched what a woman would have worn in the Thirties. Not to mention that the color matched her engagement ring. "We technically don't have to do this," she reminded him, placing a hand on his shoulder, "The purpose of these things is, after all, to finalize the matches." Which they had already done.

Taking a deep breath, Jones nodded. "Let them talk." He was happy with Klaus and grateful for everything Gwen had done for him. Going to the ball was the least he could do for them. He smoothed down the lapels of his suit jacket and held his arm out for Klaus to take. With a determined nod to Gwen and Five, Jones stepped through the doors as they were opened for him.

"Mister Jones Lamontagne and his… intended."

Gwen rolled her eyes at the pause as she turned to fix Five's tie. "Behave," she warned, "No innuendos, no hands where they are not supposed to be and most definitely no sneaking away."

"What if someone says something about us or them?"

"No killing anyone."

"That's your limit?"

Shaking her head, Gwen accepted his arm as it was held out to her, "I was hoping you could stick to sarcastic, elitist clapbacks," she replied quietly, preparing to enter the ballroom, "But if it gets really bad I will pretend not to see if you punch someone." Five nodded, pleased with the deal. Gwen pressed a quick kiss to his cheek before the doors opened and they stepped into the ballroom.

"Miss Gwendolyn Silver and her… _fiancé_?"

* * *

They had taken special care not to publicize their engagement. Five had been offended until Monica explained that it was a power move that might pull some attention away from Jones and Klaus. Announcing an engagement, the first of the debutante class, would show that a permanent alliance had already been made between two powerful families. It would force the other people attending to show respect, which would force politeness toward any pairing that was endorsed by them. So long as Gwen and Five showed support of Klaus and Jones, no one could speak up against them without breaking the rules of propriety. As such, the first thing Gwen did as they reached the bottom of the stairs was to place a chaste and wholly proper kiss to Jones' cheek then Klaus'.

Five shook their hands, discreetly watching the reactions around them. There were feelings of shock and outrage written across every face in the room. He found it exhilarating how the tables had turned. Monica smirked from her place in the corner, raising her glass in a silent congratulations. Not a single one of the men and women would be able to utter a word without it being a slight to the families Silver and Hargreeves. Nodding back at Monica, Five swept Gwen into his arms in the first position of the opening dance. "Well, I'd say we're off to a good start," he commented, spinning her in a delicate circle, "We've made our stance on their relationship clear."

"All we can do now is wait and see," Gwen replied in a whisper as Five lifted her, "Thankfully, most of the stuck up snobs in here value alliances too much to say anything." She allowed Five to lead her into another graceful twirl, smiling softly at him. They had worked hard for that moment, but they had made it. Five had conquered the apocalypse. Gwen had helped Vanya understand her powers. Together they had defeated the Commission. The most dangerous thing in their future, as far as Gwen could see, was Klaus' clumsy shenanigans.

The dance ended, Five and Gwen meeting Klaus and Jones in the middle of the dance floor. Monica came up to them, dragging a waiter along with her. "Monica," Five greeted, chuckling as he took a glass of sparkling cider from the tray the poor waiter was carrying, "How are you enjoying the festivities so far?"

"In the six minutes it took to find you guys I've been asked three times how I secured a match with a Hargreeves heir," she replied, taking a large gulp of her wine, "I haven't heard anyone say anything thus far, though." The wink she gave Klaus and Jones caused her daughter to groan.

Five gently pried the wine glass from Monica's fingers, passing it to the waiter before he left. His fiancée sent him a grateful smile, turning to her mother. "You'll not be drinking anything other than sparkling cider or water from here on out, got it," she checked, pinning her mother with a reprimanding look, "Don't make me tell Simon to drive you home." The butler was playing poker in the coatroom with the other men and women employed by the elitist families, ready to drive his odd little family home. Monica pouted but nodded in acceptance.

"Excuse me?"

Jones turned around as someone tapped him on the shoulder. "Nathan!" He happily embraced his friend before gesturing to his date. "Nate, this is Klaus Hargreeves."

"Your intended, I heard," Nathan replied, smiling, "It's nice to meet you." He laughed when Klaus curtsied and turned to Gwen. "And this must be the infamous Five Hargreeves," he noted, shaking Five's hand, "I've heard much about you."

"Infamous," Five mused, playfully narrowing his eyes at Gwen, "What have you been saying?"

The group laughed. "Infamous because you intercepted her before Tristan Carmine could get his snobby little hands on her, I imagine," Monica muttered darkly into her cider, "Thank God." She shrugged innocently when her daughter sighed impatiently. "I'll behave, promise." Unable to ignore all of the manners instilled in her since childhood, the woman turned to the new face. "Hi, I'm Monica Silver," she introduced, holding a hand out for Nathan to shake, "Gwenny's mother."

"Nathan Abernathy," he replied, "Gwenny's friend."

* * *

Barely had introductions been dealt with when another voice was added to the fray. "Well, it appears I have found the lowest of low," Tristan said gleefully, a wicked smirk on his face, "Just when I thought you could not sink any lower, Miss Silver, you show up with a larger disgrace than the ring on your finger."

"That comment wasn't creative enough to warrant a punch," Gwen muttered, a hand on Five's chest to hold him back, "Where did you leave your date, Mister Carmine?" She gasped theatrically, nodding to herself as though she just realized something. "Oh, wait, you spent too much time chasing after someone who did better to actually want to find a date, did you not," she continued sweetly, "Not to worry, there is always next season."

"I will get you," he growled, leaning closer, "And you won't see it coming."

"Somehow, I doubt that," Gwen replied, smirking, "But I look forward to seeing what you come up with." Tristan stormed off without another word, leaving the group snickering after him. Turning back to her friends, Gwen shook her head. "He needs to get over himself," she commented, smiling when Five pressed a kiss to her temple, "He'll be a better man for it."

"Hopefully, he will find a better man for it too," Jones added, sipping his cider, "Even I can see that he needs some help to… unwind." So, maybe Klaus had been a rather strong influence on him. Gazing at his beloved as he chatted happily with Nathan and Gwen, Jones could not find it within himself to complain. A nudge at his shoulder had him looking to his left, where Five was smirking at him with a raised eyebrow. Their trip to the jewelry store was their little secret. For now, anyway.


	12. Chapter XII (Epilogue)

**Well, this is it, folks. The epilogue of my first story with this many chapters. It's short and fluffy. Happy reading! Leave a review if you have one!**

* * *

While Gwen often got glimpses of the future, not even she saw that it would be Vanya and Diego getting married first. Both she and Klaus had engagement rings on their fingers, yet it was Vanya and Diego who waltzed through the Silver's front door the morning of their eighteenth birthday, with wedding bands on theirs. Klaus was adamant that en elopement did not count. As far as he was concerned, the whole ceremony was null unless he was present. Jones pulled his fiancé back into his seat, whispering placatingly into his ear while sending apologetic looks to Vanya and Diego. Five and Gwen, one of whom was more awake than the other, congratulated the couple, happy to see them happy. Everyone present pretended not to hear Five mutter about how it 'took Diego long enough'.

* * *

As the Hargreeves and Gwen's eighteenth birthday passed, more changes were made to the living arrangements. Vanya and Diego moved into an apartment not too far from their childhood home with Allison moving into the same building a few months later. Luther decided to do what Diego had done in the previous timeline and enrolled in the police academy along with his girlfriend, Eudora Patch. It was a little awkward between him and Diego for a while, but the two worked it out. Klaus had moved in with the Silvers and Jones shortly after Jones proposed, but as the wedding approached the couple used their inheritance money to buy a townhouse down the street. Seeing how lost Grace seemed without someone to take care of, Monica surprised everyone by moving into the Hargreeves home to keep the robot woman company, leaving the Silver townhouse to Five and Gwen.

* * *

Of the _officially_ engaged couples, Five and Gwen got married first. It was a short and sweet ceremony, with only friends and family present. Henry and Annie-May were reluctant to attend, but could not deny the strength of the alliance, no matter the fact that it was a love match. They were shocked to receive an invitation to Monica's wedding a few months later. It came as no shock to anyone that Klaus decided on a lavish ceremony and reception. Five had cursed for weeks afterward as he kept finding glitter in his hair.

* * *

When Simon passed away shortly before Vanya and Diego's first anniversary. He had been struggling with a heart condition for some time. In his honor, Monica and Grace turned the Hargreeves home into a home for orphans and abused children, an endeavor supported even by Annie-May and Henry. Five, all too familiar with the traumas children could suffer, worked with them to help the children open up, using his experiences to tell them that it was possible to move on. It had been an unexpected choice, but Gwen was proud of him.

* * *

Five looked away from the wall of photos in the sitting room, pulled from his memories by his wife's arrival. Not even three full years had passed since their wedding. They lived alone in the Silver townhouse, for the most part. More often than not, Klaus and Jones came over for dinner. Neither could cook. "Hey," he greeted, kissing her softly, "How was class?"

"The same as yesterday," Gwen replied, sitting beside him on the couch, "What are you doing in here, I thought Vanya and Diego were coming over for dinner?" After much consideration, Gwen had decided to study psychology rather than continuing her dream of being a trauma surgeon. With her abilities, it was a given that becoming a psychiatrist would suit her and while she still kept up her hobby of stitching up her family, because God knows how they survived without her, she was happy with the change. While studying, she had taken up helping out at the orphanage when she was not reforming Ophelia Murphy's. After months of work, she had managed to secure a partnership between the orphanage and the school, ensuring that the children would be educated.

Shifting them so that Gwen was under him on the couch, Five placed a teasing kiss to the hollow of her throat. "They canceled," he muttered against her skin as his hands worked on tugging the hem of her blouse out of her skirt, "They said they had plans with other friends, which means that one or both of them are horny and neither is willing to admit it." He kissed Gwen deeply, searching for the zipper at the back of her skirt as he did so. Before he could pull it down, an invisible force pushed him away and rearranged them so he was lying on his back while his wife straddled him.

"And you figured that it wasn't a bad idea, I take it?" Gwen pulled her blouse over her head as she let her powers undo the buttons on Five's shirt.

Five sat up to allow the shirt to fall off his shoulders, his hands smoothing over the exposed skin of the woman he loved. "Actually, this is usually where my thoughts go when you're around," he replied playfully, "Unless we're competing or having an intellectual conversation, of course." Reaching behind her back, Five undid Gwen's bra and tugged it off so he could attach his lips where he wanted without restrictions. "Speaking of," he panted, pulling away for air, "I read this article—"

"Shut up and take us to the bedroom."

"Yes, love."

* * *

Afterward, while Five smugly recounted the number of times Gwen had fallen apart to his touch, the couple lay in bed together in comfortable silence. They had elected to stay in the room they had always slept in, feeling like it would be wrong to move out of the space that had been theirs for so many years. Five had almost dozed off when he felt Gwen tap lightly on his sternum. "Yes, love?"

"What would you say if I asked to redo the bedroom next to the third-floor library?"

"I would ask you why," he replied, looking down at her in confusion, "I thought we agreed to stay in here."

"We did."

"Then why…" He trailed off, sitting up. Gwen sat up with him, nervously chewing on her bottom lip. As per usual with the two of them, words were not necessary. Five saw her memories, the two pink lines, the confirmation from her doctor. It was not something they had planned, nor was it something either of them had been opposed to. He tried to remember when they had forgotten to use contraception, only to come up short as he found that he could not remember a time they had not, at least not since their second anniversary. "So we're having…"

"Yes."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"You know I only have the energy to show feelings for one person."

"I'm that person."

Fingers tracing over Gwen's lower abdomen, Five shook his head. "Not anymore."


End file.
